Haruu II Rebellion
by reulte
Summary: Ten years after Order 66 clone deserters unite in rebellion.
1. ReCap and Cast of Characters

Updated 6/20/2012

**Haruu II – Rebellion**

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><p><strong>Notes<strong>

**and**

**Cast of Characters**

Haruu was a long story and, because it takes place over five years beginning shortly before Order 66, a lot of character situations have changed and should be explained.

The lists are a combination of chronological and alphabetical in what I hope is a logical sequence.

As _Haruu II - Rebellion_ is written, I will add to the cast of characters; both new characters and new situations to familiar characters.

Two portions of Haruu will be included and added to in Haruu II. These are Numa's epilogue and Riven's (now-removed) epilogue.

I will be slow about updating until my move to Norway is completed in August or September 2012.

Reviews and comments are always welcome and appreciated and sometimes even acted up.

Most importantly, I want you to enjoy reading.

**RECAP OF HARUU**

**Order 66**

Ahsoka was expelled from the Jedi order for 'attachment' and refusing to adopt out her child by Rex several months before Order 66. Her son, Barin, is not Force sensitive and does not have lekku but does have montrals, the hollow space allowing echolocation in Togrutans. Barin also has the blonde hair of his father's mutation (I don't buy that nonsense about troopers dying their hair on the battlefield). Ahsoka lives with one of her sisters, Aureki Tano who, due to a childhood infection, is handicapped by Shili standards.

Rex carried through Order 66 and was at General Skywalker's side when he killed the children in the Jedi Temple's council chamber. Rex deserted the next day taking Fives, Echo and Jester with him. He had to pull Jester from medical and Jester has a burn scar from placing the barrel of his blaster to his face.

**A year after Order 66**

Rex, Echo, Fives and Jester go to Saleucami; visiting and staying for a while with Cut and his pregnant Suu to assist around the farm. Due to a hard year, there are problems during the birth of Keeli and Rex 'kidnaps' an obstetrician. When Rex, Echo and Fives leave, Jester decides to stay on Saleucami with Cut and family.

**Four years after Order 66**

During an interval of being bodyguards on the impoverished planet of Ryloth, Rex, Echo and Fives meet Waxer who asks their help in rescuing an eleven-year old Numa sold to pirates. During the rescue they meet sisters Sula & Saoha of Zeltros and, for a while, Rex, Echo and Fives live with them in their transport-small freighter, _Silver Bird_. Rex and Echo leave and Fives remains with the beautiful Zeltrons.

When he can, Echo has been seeking information on Jedi and other clone deserters such as Waxer. He finds evidence that Obi-wan Kenobi is alive on Tatooine. Echo and Rex visit, Echo asking what happened to Ahsoka.

Echo is delighted to find Ahsoka on Shili, Rex is a bit more conflicted because of what he's done – participated in the murder of children. Ahsoka marries them both (along with her sister – a typical Shili multiple-sibling marriage) and introduces them to Barin. Rex is afraid that, because of his actions in the temple, Barin will be 'contaminated' by his presence.

**Five years after Order 66**

Waxer and Fives show up on Shili requesting help in rescuing 23 clone deserters from a prison ship taking them to Kamino for reconditioning or destruction. Boil, a stormtrooper sergeant at the prison, has been busy the last few years rescuing imprisoned deserters. Now he wants to rejoin his family of Waxer and Numa as well as rescue so many troopers but he needs help. During the rescue, Sula gives birth to baby peach, they discover Cody is among the rescued men which also includes some men of the 501st. Several men are severely injured; Sketch, Kayl, Kaver, Dare, and Riposte.

Canon characters are in **BOLD**. Canon characters with major parts in Haruu include: **Ahsoka Tano, ****Captain Rex, ****ARC Echo, ****ARC Fives, ****Waxer, ****Numa, ****Boil. **Troopers rescued from the prison ship, _Arkayd_, include the canon characters of: **Cody, Chopper, Jesse, Kix, Edge, Sketch.**

If you're wondering why the numbers didn't match up to 23, Commander Cody's desertion and imprisonment was kept a highly classified secret. Even Boil didn't know he would be on the _Arkayd_.

Time is spent on Saleucami as the troopers learn to assimilate themselves into civilian life – some better than others. Some men, Col in particular, are working toward a definitive goal. Col wishes to return to Dantooine where he met and loved a woman. Saria and Jester have an argument that further splits them apart and Sketch suggests that Saria consider courting all the new men at Cut's farm.

After Ahsoka, Saoha and a small group of clones take off for Dantooine, an epidemic of Red Shadow Virus (a variant of Blue Shadow Virus) is discovered on Saleucami and the planet is quarantined. Cody and Rex decide to approach this situation in the best way they know and institute military rule on the farm. Crux dies before Kix and Saria can derive a cure – at least for the clones. The virus has a fatality rate of nearly 90% for adults, but only 10% for younger people, hence Saleucami will become a planet with a truly skewed population with repercussions such as child labor, lowered literacy rate and rule by might.

At the end of Haruu, Rex's brothers are moving onward toward their own lives and futures; quite a few go to Dantooine. Some, like Jesse and Riven, seek redemption for the crimes they committed as stormtroopers. Commander Cody decides to go to Mandalore; he's heard vague rumors he wants to investigate but decides to take a detour via Tatooine when Rex tells him Obi-wan Kenobi is still alive.

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><p><em>Haruu II – Rebellion<em> begins almost five years after Haruu (almost ten years after Order 66). Most of the clones inoculated by the Skirata cure appear in their late 30's; far different from those few clones still in the Imperial Army who are almost 50 biological years. For the most part, the clone deserters have assimilated into the local populations on Saleucami, Dantooine and a scattering of other planets. They have wives, families, children; they have purpose in their lives and a future beyond the death promised by Kamino.

And yet…

They're brothers bred for battle; more than most people, they know the military might and imperatives of Palpatine's Empire. They mourn for the brothers already dead and even more for their brothers still in the Army. Daily they hear of acts of rebellion; small at first and easily crushed by a company of stormtroopers or merely the presence of a star destroyer in the planetary system, but over the years a little rebellion here and there has been developing into something approaching a coalition of governments against the Empire. Lately there's been evidence of an alliance – several powerful planetary systems organizing against the Empire.

They long to fight again, not as they used to – as an army of slaves built to serve with nothing to gain from fighting. Now they have much to gain or lose. They are, after all, free men..

**Cast of Characters**

Rescued Clones (canon)

**Chopper.** Chopper left Saleucami to assist Sketch with recuperation and travel with Fives, Sula and Saoha and their baby Peach. Later, when Sketch returns to Saleucami, Chopper marries into Fives' family, now expanded by a blue-eyed son of Saoha (and Edge) and Peach's younger sister. **Haruu II** - Chopper was injured in an explostion which killed Waxer as well as Saoha, his co-wife and mother of his son (currently called 'bean' and only a toddler). Chopper survived the explosion and works on flyers and fighters in the Dantooine base.

**Cody.** Cody loved Barriss Offee and Gree who both died at Order 66. At the end of Haruu he was planning to go to Tatooine to see Kenobi as well as Mandalore (where he received the cure for the accelerated aging from the Skirata clan and brought it back to his brothers). **Haruu II** - Cody serves as liaison between various rebellion forces and collition governments as well as a few operations with Jesse and Shy.

**Edge.** Edge marries Cass Cjain along with Jesse, Riposte and Baffle. Edge is the 'alpha' in the family. Edge has blue 'ghost eyes' mutation.

**Kix.** As a medic, Kix's skills are useful, perhaps even vital, to the decimated population of Saleucami and he stays to become Saria's apprentice. He also works with Dr. Chymdura as well as helping run an orphanage along with Chymdura and Sinker. **Haruu II** - Kix spends his time between the Dantooine base and Saleucami.

**Jesse.** Jesse carried out both Order 66 and Order 37 (forcible suppression of civilian populations by any and all means). During Order 37 he raped Elarlu Cihon and seeks redemption for that act (hence he leaves with Cody when Cody goes to Tatooine and Mandalore) but he also wants family. He marries Cass Cjain in tandem with Edge, Baffle and Riposte. **Haruu II** - Jesse spends much of his time with Cody in acts of rebellion.

**Sinker.** Sinker escaped prison earlier with Boil's assistance but a beating has left him with verbal and numerical aphasia. He works at the granary and lives in Saria's apartment in Issuya. Because of the beating to his face and the blonde hair (a mutation like Rex), he looks very little like a clone.

**Sketch.** While in prison Sketch's leg was twisted and he can't walk, but he still loves drawing. He's pleased that Jester also escaped and is invited to share marriage with Jester and Saria. To give Jester time to get used to the idea, Sketch first traveled with Fives' family and Chopper during the time of his knee surgery and recuperation. While in an Outer Rim medical unit, his drawings attracted the attention of his surgeon who suggests he work for Verzhain's, a 'publisher' of surgical and anatomy Guides.

**Rescued Clones**

(original characters)

Backup. A gunship pilot and brother of Checkout.

Baffle. Baffle marries Cass Cjain along with Edge, Jesse and Riposte; later he designs a home for them near the heated pool on Cut and Suu's land.

Checkout. A gunship pilot

Col. Originally Col was with General Windu on Dantooine where he was wounded in one of thea early battles of the Clone Wars and his broken body flung into the river. He was rescued by Ehveen of Clan Gwydr but his loyalty to the GAR returned him to his duties when he healed. After Orders 66 and 37, as well as personal experience, he deserted to be caught and imprisioned. When Col returned to Dantooine, he discovers that 'Col of Clan Gwydr' is a clan member and is sometimes called Col Wanderer. He also discovers he has a son (Colehn) and Ehveen has had two year marriages and two children in the time he's been gone. **Haruu II** - Col has very bad 'arthritic' pain in winter due to the injuries received in the original battle on Dantooine which his bones were shattered. He is a respected member of Clan Gwydr.

Countdown. Dantooine, **Haruu II** - usually in Kier's Cave helping the fighters and pilots of the rebellion.

Crux. Crux dies during Red Shadow Virus quarantine on Saleucami.

Dare. Dare had a broken jaw from prison which was further damaged before arriving on Saleucami. He is a specialist in bladed weapons. He hasn't been heard from since leaving Saleucami.

Djinn. Djinn stays on Saleucami. His arm is amputated in a farm accident. After their escape to Saleucami, Boil returned his book of poetry inscribed with notes. **Haruu II** - Djinn died in the same explosion which injured Chopper and killed Waxer, Saoha.

Dub Tano Lawquane.

Gekko. Gekko goes to Dantooine with Col. - **Haruu II** - After the explosion, Gekko (and Lev) take over the raising of the children orphaned by the deaths.

JAAC. JAAC or "just another annoying clone" was on a desert planet with his sons (Kierzon, Nac, Nub) and daughter, Bird. The three youngest were deserted and exposed to the desert environment. Ahsoka and Saoha rescue JAAC and his family. JAAC was the last original clone from a company headed by the more remote, unsympathetic Jedi and, later, by non-clone generals who disliked the close-knit relations of the original clones. JAAC was thrown onto a funeral pyre while still alive and rescued by Kierzon, his first son. **Haruu II** - Jaac is the clone who directs Nia and Bon back to Dantooine cave.

Kaver. Kaver had a broken arm from prison. He's a sniper by training.

Kayl. Kayl had internal injuries from prison and would do anything for Sula, the 'angel' who caught him. **Haruu II** - Kayl went to Dantooine, married a Dantooine woman with whom he had two children (though only one is mentioned) and dies with her in the same explosion.

Leven. Leven went to Dantooine with Col and married into a large family, the clan's largest family. He broke his arm in he same stampede that injured Quad. Later he won a wrestling competition which gave him and his family breeding rights to the best bantha bull on Dantooine. He was generous and invited other families in Clan Gwydr and Clan Dsayn to run some of their bantha cows with his herd. **Haruu II** - Leven has changed his name to 'Lev' and, after the explosion injuring Chopper and killing Waxer, Saoha and others volunteers to raise children orphaned by the deaths.

Pax - Dantooine and married a widow with a child.

Quad. Ultimately Quad falls in love with Shaeeah but goes to Dantooine to he won't 'break her heart' by dying at the same time as her father, Cut. Quad is severely injured in a stampede (SCI and verbal aphasia) and returns to Saleucami with Shaeeah when she turns 16 and comes to get him. **Haruu II** - After Shaeeah came to Dantooine for him, Quad returned with her to Saleucami and worked hard to overcome his injuries. He and Shaeeah were working in the Dantooine base when the explosion occurred. Due to Quad's injuries, he is thought to be unable to father a child. One of three brothers is the biological father of Shaeeah's child.

Riposte. Like all of the prisoners, Riposte was beaten in prison. He has a 'family' from before desertion and splits his time between Saleucami and being a rebel with those family members still alive.

Riven. A pilot and mechanic. He has not been heard from since leaving Saleucami. It was known he was also seeking redemption for his acts of Order 37. **Haruu II** - Riven returned to the planet where he carried out Order 37 and found two children from that act as well as one's mother - a woman he raped during Order 37. After several years of trying to make a living in the outer rim for his family, he has brought them back to Saleucami.

Shy. Shy was reconditioned in prison, probably several times. He lives his life in terror but of what, he can't explain. He has new trooper reflexes like a shiny fresh off Kamino. **Haruu II** - Shy fits right into the Imperial Army with its strict rules and hierarchy. His life on Saleucami and relation to his 'Captain Suu' has allowed him to consider the stormtroopers as 'flesh-droids', the rebels they fight as 'civilians' and certain people - such as Nia and Bon - as 'family'. Cody, who placed him into the Imperial Army isn't sure what will happen and whether Shy can maintain a life as an undercover rebel.

**Sinker.** Boil helped Sinker escape but it was by chance he ran onto a freighter who dropped him off on Saleucami. Because of a beating in prison, he has aphsia and has difficulty talking and no understand of numbers or conversion 2D (i.e. maps) to 3D. He was cheated out of his armor and was living as a bum, occasionally sneaking into the warehouse to steal food. Cut found him and, after the quarantine, he lives in Saria's apt and works at granary warehouse. He also helps Kix with the orphanage and may have recently met a woman of interest.

**Other Characters mentioned**

**Prison**

**Boost**. Wolfpack, long dead.

**Comet.** Wolfpack, long dead.

Cups. Another trooper from prison.

**Jjek.** Escaped prison with Rhys, without Boil's assistance.

**Rhys.** Escaped prison with Jjek, without Boil's assistance.

**Scythe.** Boil helped Scythe escape the second year, no further news.

Thacker. A prison guard; one of the new breed of clones.

**Wolffe.** Still in Imperial army.

**Saleucami**

The Lawquanes:

**Cut.** Clone trooper deserted early in the war.

**Suu.** Farmer and Cut's wife.

**Shaeeah.** Farmer and Cut's daughter

**Jek.** Farmer and Cut's son.

Keeli River. Child, Cut and Suu's son.

Crux. Baby. Cut & Suu's youngest, conceived at the end of Haruu

**from 'Homestead' by Queen**:

Chios. Granary warehouse owner, Wroonian.

Elis. Chios' wife.

Ossa. Neighbors of Suu and Cut, Gran.

**Original characters:**

Aureki Tano. Ahsoka's sister and co-wife with Rex and Echo.

Bisyar. Gran warehouse worker.

Cass Cjain. Neighbor of Cut and Suu, marries Edge, Jesse, Riposte and Baffle.

Crys. Child. A child born of Order 37 rape that Jesse brought back to his family on Saleucami; acknowledged son by Edge, Cass and the others.

Dek. Gang member, boy, year younger than Jek

Guntrei. Drifter due to quarantine. Dies.

Korly. Wroonian warehouse worker.

Saoha. Zeltron, dusty rose skin with lilac hair, married to her sister, Sula, and Fives. Later incorporates Chopper into the marriage. **Haruu II** - Saoha loved 'rescuing' clones from the Imperial Army. She died in the explosion.

Saria. A surgical nurse who has been engaged to Jester until he believes she is 'sharing' with another man. In spite of their mutual animosity at this time, Saria comes to Cut's farm at Jester's request. She was 3 months pregnant with twins when the rescued clones came to Saleucami.

Sharn. Gang member girl, slightly younger than Shaeeah.

Sula. Zeltron, rube red skin with blue black hair, married to her sister, Saoha, and Fives. Later incorporates Chopper into the marriage.

Tajin. Drifter due to quarantine. Dies.

Tandril. Wroonian guard at quarantine line.

**Dantooine**

Clan Gwydr

Aarlwyr. Young, beautiful woman of marriageable age, friend of Bekia.

Adwr. The Hand of the Law and nominal leader of Clan Gwydr. Ehveen's father, Tyrlanya's foster father, Col's father in law.

Bekia. Young, beautiful woman who is hopeful of a husband, but treats Quad (who has chosen not to marry until he's sure Shaeeah won't show up) and JAAC (for his scars) rudely.

Bershin. Tyr's older brother, he went to another planet to breed different strains of bantha and nerf.

Bird. JAAC's daughter. She is about 3 years old when they come to Dantooine.

Chaynwa. Dub's wife. Dub and Chaynwa have fostered Chaynwa's dead cousin's twin children (boy and girl).

Col. Clone.

Colehn. Col and Ehveen's son. He is almost 8 when he finally meets Col.

Countdown. Clone.

Ehveen. The woman who rescued Col so long ago, bore him a son, Colehn. She has two children from Clan Sylart and Clan Dsayn.

Hoscynia. Young woman who is also marriageable but is appalled at Bekia's behavior and rejects her friendship.

Kaver. Clone.

Kayl. Clone. **Haruu II** - dies in explosion.

Kierzon. JAAC's eldest adopted son, also called Kier. **Haruu II** - Kierson is helping Nub search for the bantha cafe when he falls into the cave.

Layol. Child. Ehveen's youngest year-marriage child with Clan Dsayn.

Leven. Clone. Once on Dantooine, he marries into the Nargwan family, the largest and – it follows – poorest of Clan Gwydr.

Meeka. Tyrlanya's younger sister, she married into another clan.

Nac. JAAC's middle son.

Nub. JAAC's youngest son, red-headed and green-eyed, he loves bantha and apprenticed himself to the herdmaster within a day or two of arriving on Dantooine. He was 6 at the time. **Haruu II** - it is in seeking Nub's bantha cafe that the cave is found.

Pax. Clone. After Saria says no to his marriage proposal on Saleucami, Pax goes to Dantooine and marries a widow with a child.

Tyrlanya. Also called Tyr or Ty. An older marriageable woman, she is barren and seeks someone with children. JAAC is her choice; but not only for the children, but for qualities she notices when she meets him. She is the best weaver/thread-maker in the clan.

Zashari. Another young marriageable, she criticizes Bekia for her thoughtlessness but doesn't renounce friendship.

Clan Dsayn

Neighboring clan with rights to the year-marriage youngest daughter of Ehveen's; Col buys back the rights to the child without bartering.

Clan Sylart

Neighboring clan with rights to the Ehveen's oldest year-marriage child. Col wishes to buy back the rights to this child as well.

**Canon Characters **

(you can check in Wookiepedia)

**Bon** - a Jedi initiate who escaped Order 66 by the intervention of clone pilot HOB 147. I've changed the timing and clone. At this point in time, he is in his early-mid 20's. **Haruu II** - Rescued by Shy and sent to Dantooine where he joins the rebellion.

**HOB 147** - In canon HOB 147 was sympathetic to the Jedi and lied to clonetroopers attempting to carry out Order 66. In my little sandcastle, he has since deserted but his paperwork was given to Shy.

**Nia** - a Jedi initiate who escaped Order 66 by the intervention of clone pilot HOB 147. I've changed the timing and clone. Nia is in her late teens or early 20's at the time she enters our story. Haruu II - Rescued by Shy and sent to Dantooine where she joins the rebellion.

**Sian Jeisel** - Jedi knight who died guarding Jedi iniates during Order 66 on Bogden 3.

**Du Mahn** - Jedi master who died guarding Jedi initiates during Order 66 on Bogden 3.


	2. The Lost Calf

**A/N - **Jaac, Kierzon, Nub, Nac and Bird are all introduced in Part 30 - JAAC in my story **'Haruu'** while Col's story begins in Part 4: First Day on Saleucami, Chapter 26 and continues in Part 5 Chapter 33.

**Haruu II**

The Lost Calf

**_For all that came after, Kierzon remembered everything began with his youngest brother's bantha calf_.**

"I know he went this way, Kier," Nub was pulling at Kier's sleeve, half-hauling him up the steep pathway then stepping to a bush and pulling a bit of pale undercoat fur from the thistly plant then shoving it into Kierzon's face. "See?"

"Nub, we've been searching most of the day. It's dark and yellow moon will set soon." Kier put his hand on Nub's shoulder. "We have to go back to the tents. Bantha are made for this weather but we'll freeze."

Nub sighed heavily and nodded, a shaggy lock of fire-red hair falling over his eyes. "You're right, Kier. It's a lost cause. But he had such good breeding. One of Adwy's best cows and Leven's tournament bull."

"Nub, maybe it wandered its way back down to the corral." Kier tried to be optimistic for Nub's sake, the bull calf was his prized responsibility.

Nub tipped his nose in the air and took a small sniff then a longer, more full-bellied breath. He shook his head. "Smell that, Kier? That's panic piss. Something scared him and he won't stop running until he's calmed down."

Kier shook his head as he turned to head back down the pathway. "What could scare a bantha?" he asked his younger brother.

Nub shrugged. "Ghosts?" he suggested and Kier was about to turn around and tell him exactly how ridiculous an idea that was when there was suddenly no trail, no ground beneath him.

Kier's arms flailed and his fingers twisted around a narrow branch with his gloved hand as he slid down then his body dropped and slammed against stone, knocking his breath from his lungs. The force of the blow caused his hands to slip a bit but he held on. Nub was there also, hands around Kier's wrists pulling up, his face a pale rictus of terror and the dark of his pupils a tiny black hole against his green eyes.

Gravity was inexorable and Kier's fingers slowly slid, winter bud by winter leaf, over the thin branch.

"No, Kier," screamed Nub, pulling more frantically.

"Tell Jaac what happened." Kier replied, surprising himself with his calm even as his hands scrabbled for something more to grab, something to hold on to that wouldn't tumble down with him. He had a moment's thought that there would be a ledge just below his feet and they would have a good laugh afterward.

Kier's hand slipped, the small branch sprung back and Nub made a grab, catching Kier's sleeve, he teeth grit together, as if to hold Kier by sheer determination.

For an instant in time, Kier was suspended, then he wasn't and Nub's scream seemed to last forever.

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><p>Kier's head hurt and when he moved there was a ragged pain throughout his body that made him cry out. He was in bed, the bantha and nerf furs thick beneath him, but Nac and Nub must have stolen his covering. He was cold and he reached back for his cover, but again, sharp agony greeted his movement. Kier wanted to get up and search for his cover or at least steal trickster Nac's cover, but the pain was more than the cold so Kier let it be as he shivered.<p>

_Kier, Kier._ He thought he heard his name called, but it was only the wind

After a while, cold cut through most of the pain and he remembered that he'd been with Nub searching for one of his _kriffing_ bantha.

"Nub! Nub!" he called, waiting for a reply but only the wind spoke. Kier looked up into the sky, hoping to see one of the moons or perhaps a constellation that would tell him how much night had passed and how much longer until day, but above him was only a wide expanse of air interwoven with winterleaf branches and a few stars between drifting clouds. Kier licked his lips, thirsty; as thirsty as he'd ever been on Dantooine but not as thirsty as on the yellow desert planet of Thvenya. Saoha and 'Soka had let him sit by one of the triple glassteel windows as the _Silver Bird_ left the planet some four, almost five years ago. He swore he'd never return there, never return to a desert. Yet, here he was, thirsty. "Nub," he called again but there was silence and Kier laid his head against the cooling fur of the bantha calf, trying to brush the long fur of its winter coat over his body.

In clarity, Kier remembered telling Nub to tell Jaac. He nodded slightly, Nub had gone down to tell Jaac, to get him and Col - no, not Col with his cold-bone aches - but Gekko and Lev and Pax who would come up, rescue him from where he'd fallen and carry him down the mountain. Kier sighed, he'd be carried down into camp and his pretty kin-cousin, Lorusha would probably ignore him even more than she had since she'd come from back from the last festival.

Kier, Kier. He jerked his head, listening, his mouth open to reply but it was only the wind and Kier slumped again. He felt frozen; his world narrowed to cold, pain, numbness and the shaggy body which had fallen before him. Kier shivered. He was cold and he recognized the wetness that was so cold against his belly was his own voided bladder-waste.

"Papa," he sobbed softly simply to hear the sound of his own voice, simply because he was dying and he wanted the wind to hold on to his words.

Sometimes Kier called Jaac 'papa', but only when he wanted something. On Thvenya as an orphaned child, he'd known he needed someone strong, someone adult to help him survive and when he'd seen the moving arm on the edges of the pyre and heard hoarse shouts, he had chanced it and pulled out the wounded man. For a long time, he thought it had been a poor choice. Jaac's large body needed more water than Kier and there were nights he breathed terror because he'd stolen water and run without looking back, bringing it to the small hollow in the park. Then Jaac had rescued Nac and Kier had frowned. He'd wanted someone to help _him_ survive, not squander their few resources on another mouth. Nub had been found shortly after and Kier felt despair, often sobbing himself to sleep. When Jaac had come home from begging once day with a baby, a pink, sun-exposed baby whose needs were not only water and chewable food, but expensive nutrition and lotion for her heated skin Kier had yelled at Jaac and run away for several days.

"I'm sorry, papa." Kier whispered.

Funny, Kier had forgotten that. He'd forgotten that when he came home to the little hollow in the city's old fortifications, Jaac had handed him all the water for that day before he'd gone out to beg or find work. Even odder, Kier remembered he had shared it with Nub and Nac, his toddling tormentors, he called them. He remembered holding Bird in his thin arms and her sucking on a bulb of the precious liquid.

Papa.

Kier used the word as he needed to get Jaac to do what he wanted. Papa, his _real_ papa was the lanky, golden-haired man with the easy grin in Kier's dreams standing with the statuesque woman with sapphire eyes. The woman often shifted to Tyrlanya, their similarities evident, but dour, flame-scarred, single-eyed Jaac could never take the place of the golden man with easy laughter.

Kier never told Jaac that hunger and the smell of meat had brought him to the funeral pyre. He'd never told Jaac he'd eaten well that one time, keeping the meat in his belly, after he had dragged Jaac from the flames.

"Kier, Kier."

It was just the wind again, and Kier huddled closer to the soft cooling mound that had once been a prize-worthy bantha.

"Kier!" That was Jaac's bellow but with a tone of panic that Kier had never heard before, not even on Thvenya.

"Papa, papa!" His voice was high and small in the darkness, swallowed by the wind. They would never hear him. Kier cried. "I'm sorry, papa, I'm so sorry," he mumbled. Though he wasn't sure to whom he was speaking or what he was sorry for.

There was noise, voices talking and suddenly warm arms circled Kier's frozen form, he felt a coat over him, already warm with someone's body heat.

"It's ok, my son, my boy." It was papa's voice, low and rumbly, like the bantha as they wandered the grassy plain. "Sshh, Kier, my son." Funny, Jaac's voice had never wavered before. "I'm here, I have you." Kier felt hands, not gloves, but warm hands cup his face. "We'll get you out of here and home, my son."

Kier felt wet tears fall on his cheeks and recognized they weren't his.

"Don't cry, papa. You can't spare the water."

There was a gurgled sound, neither laugh nor cry. "Ah Kier, you are worth all the rivers we could ever cry if you left us."

Nineteen year old Kier softly ducked his head in the warm curve of his father's shoulder and added to the river of tears.

* * *

><p>It had been almost ten years since he'd carried out Order 66 on New Plympto, about five years since he'd last seen all his brothers on Saleucami and almost a year since Rex or Cody had last come to Dantooine. Life had been good on Dantooine.<p>

Col and his brothers heard about close calls between rebels and Imperial stormtroopers. They heard about clone deserters being found and executed. Names were never reported, only a trooper's designation and they knew that was a message from the Empire. _You are nothing, only a number, only what we have made you. _

Col took it upon himself to say remembrance for those souls though he hadn't known them. Fives or Chopper usually told him those stories were exaggerated, but sometimes when he asked, they lowered their eyes and looked away with sorrowing nods. But on Dantooine, life had been good.

Col saw Fives and Chopper regularly, living as they did, in the small ship, the _Silver Bird_ with Sula, Saoha and the children. There were children. As always, Col's caught his breath in wonder. There existed a continuation; a generation beyond their crèche-born lives that extended into the future. Not just children on _Silver Bird_, but on Dantooine and on Saleucami and Shili; children of troopers. He hoped, he knew, he _counted on_ there being other troopers in the galaxy like Jaac or Kix or Jesse's family, who'd taken war-orphans into their arms or women, victims of Order 37 who, when that dark-haired, smoky-eyed child had been born, had taken the babe into her arms in love.

He hoped there were more women like Ahsoka and Suu and his own beloved Ehveen, who had seen into the loneliness of a trooper's heart and filled it with love and hope and children.

Col glanced to one side and saw the profiles of Colehn and Kierzon in the blue darkness of night. Jaac sat on the other side of Kierzon. Even though they were on a nerfhide on cold granite, they were comfortable, warm in their fur-inside hooded coats of Dantooine nerfherders and warm in companionship.

"How's your leg, Kier?" Col asked in the cold darkness. "Does the cold make it ache?" Col had boneaches and limped in the winter cold from the damage he'd taken in battle so long ago; shattered by a seismic driver and blown like grass seed into the river. _Kriff_, he ached in deep cold, ached so much he cried, ached so much some days he could not get out of the warm furs without help from Ehveen. They knew; his brothers who took over his work on the coldest days. Tyrlanya had woven a special cloth for Ehveen to make him a pair of winter under garments. It helped, it all helped and Col kept careful track of the favors he owed to repay them in summer's heat.

Col chuckled. He knew his brothers counted themselves as still owing him for bringing them to Dantooine, for sponsoring them into the clan and for introducing them to wonderful, single women to marry. They counted their debt to him as great as their debt to Rex or Boil – a life-changing debt.

Kierzon thought a moment, flexing his leg about around the recently healed break. "No, feels fine." He paused, the twinkling of the stars catching his eyes. He'd recently begun studying the first quarter astro-navigation. "And for what we found…"

Jaac laughed gruffly. "It was worth the pain of a broken leg and all that enforced inactivity?"

"Worth all the studying I got done," Kier laughed. "Even worth being stuck in the threading house with all those women mothering me."

It was Colehn's turn to laugh; still a boy's laugh though his voice crackled and roughened as he spoke. He'd be a man by summer and Col felt a moment's disquiet at the thought of his son being a man.

"You told me you loved almost every minute of it. You told me that Lorusha..."

Kier blushed then swung his arm to smack his younger cousin next to him.

Colehn might have sat up and continued the sport with his older cousin but Col pointed out a movement above them. "What say you, Kier?" Col knew, of course, but they were always teaching the younglings. It was his pleasure, particularly when Clan Gwydr had selected him as _chirgyo_ – teacher.

Both Kier and Colehn turned their eyes toward the small crystal light that Col pointed. Colehn shrugged. As far as he was concerned, it was a star. Everything in the sky counted as a star until it was something else.

Kier watched for a moment then sighed. "Satellite. Probably one of the weather trackers." Something else in the quadrant caught his eyes. He sucked in his lower lip and pointed. "But that, I think…" Then he shouted. "That's them!" He turned to Col who was already grinning.

"Good eyes, Kier. Colehn…" but Colehn was already running toward the tents.

By the time the little ship of Fives' family came in, rapidly – that had to be Ahsoka piloting through the treacherous mountains winds – Dub, Leven and Leven's niece, Lorusha Nargwan, were moving up the hill with rapid steps.

It had been Ahsoka piloting. Rex, of course, had come with his wife and Chopper was there with noticeably pregnant Saoha. There were warmly dressed, but not sufficiently for winter on Dantooine, and Chopper opened his coat and drew his lovely rose-colored Saoha into its folds and his arms.

Col raised his eyebrows lightly at Chopper. _Making up for lost time,_ they seemed to ask but Chopper only grinned as he tightened his arm around her. They were all making up for lost time.

Cody was the surprise; both unexpected and thoroughly welcome.

"I'm glad you're here, sir." Col greeted him with a nod while Dub and Leven straightened almost to attention.

Cody grinned at the words. He'd finally convinced most of his brothers to drop the 'commander' but he didn't think they'd ever lose the 'sir'. "I was visiting Saleucami." Recuperating would have been a better word but he didn't have to mention that. "Rex told me you found a possible candidate for a base?"

"A cave, sir!" exclaimed Kierzon. "As big as the mountain itself."

Cody's brows drew up in surprise then down, less in doubt than in trying to keep his expectations low. He glanced at Col and Jaac who both nodded. "I'll have to see it, Kierzon. Space is only one criteria. I've got a list as long as my arm…" he sighed softly.

Kierzon nodded. "I've got an estimate of its size – just areas where a man can comfortably stand. Papa and Gekko did most of the work."

Cody and Rex both glanced at Jaac who blushed red with both pride and embarrassment then put his hand on Kier's shoulder.

"I haven't calculated volume, but there is plenty of space and high areas," Kier continued as there was no interruption. "There's fresh water running through part of it, but the cave itself is pretty dry. I think that would be the most important part but…"

"Oh, be quiet, Kier," interrupted Lorusha as she clasped her fingers around his, "and invite them to the tents where we can talk in warm comfort."

Kier blushed at realizing that Col and Jaac were allowing him to host, blushed pinker at ignoring the visitors' needs, then red as he caught Saoha and Ahsoka glance at each other with womanly smiles and a soft chuckle from Chopper. Kier stood tall as though his courting of Lorusha was still a secret between the two of them.

"Forgive my impatience, but please, come to my family's tent for rest and refreshment." It was the age-old invitation among the herders; to share in times of plenty was a gift of pleasure and to share in times of need was a necessity of kin-alliance.

"With pleasure, Kierzon," answered Cody as he glanced at Ahsoka and Rex. Occasionally he wasn't sure who took precedence between the three of them in the civilian life they'd adopted.

Kierzon turned toward the tents, walking first with the women, Chopper skirting the other side. Lorusha, unmarried, was behind Ahsoka and Saoha with the men flanking them in a semi-circle; a modified squad formation, old habit for the troopers. Jaac was walking to the side of Kier, beaming pride through and through.

"My mother has woven gifts, Aunt Ahsoka, Aunt Saoha." He continued with more enthusiasm and less formality. "Fine gifts for brothers and sisters on Saleucami and Shili; as well as trade goods to make your trip worthwhile."

Cody and Rex glanced at Col and Leven with curiosity.

"Weaving and gifting belongs to the women," Leven explained with a shrug. He ducked his head and chewed at his lips then touched Rex's arm slightly and slowed his pace. Rex understood, gave Cody a nod to continue and slowed until he and Leven were several paces behind the others.

"How's Quad, Rex?" Leven asked quietly, "We'll want to know, but if he's still as bad as when he left…"

Rex chuckled even as he shook his head. "He's doing well, Leven. I wouldn't have expected it, but Shaeeah and Quad have done wonders and he's progressed very well."

Leven smiled and quicken his pace to catch up with the others just entering the tent. He gave a nod to Ahsoka. "That's good. Call me Lev, Rex. It's what my family calls me."

_Family. _Rex glanced at Ahsoka, their thoughts running the same. The work they'd done on Saleucami those few years back, with Cut and Suu; with Jester and Saria, with Fives and his lovely Zeltron wives. It all came to fruition with that simple word, 'family'. Most of the troopers they'd rescued from the prison frigate had 'family' now. He put his arms around Ahsoka and hugged her close before they entered the tent.

* * *

><p>As usual, read and enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated. Updating will be irregular until perhaps June 2012.<p> 


	3. To Shatter the Quiet

Updated 6/20/2012 for minor changes, corrections

* * *

><p><strong>To Shatter the Quiet<strong>

_It's been eleven years since Order 66. _

_Rebellion forces are organizing against the Empire. _

_On Dantooine, a base is being prepared to house fighters and ships of the newly-formed Rebel Alliance._

* * *

><p>Chopper stretched his back muscles as he closed down <em>Wild Card's<em> cargo hold and strode down the ramp. There'd been a lot of supplies, mostly electronics, and he had volunteered to empty the hold while Sa', escorted by one-armed Djinn, had taken little bean down to Col's tent. Ehveen would attempt to spoil the baby until Sa' and Chopper finished with the new deserter.

Chopper paused for a moment as he took in the changes since the last time he'd been to the Dantooine cave just a few months ago. There'd been a lot of changes, all for the better. The walls were still the white stone of the cavern, but now smoothed and, more importantly, marked with directions. Someone had been smart enough to leave hollows and ledges; a few large enough to sit in or on, while others were only the size of an equipment pack but just as useful. The hangar deck was marked, no more accidental bumps as ships maneuvered for space, lights and lighting strips were functional so they could work throughout the night and, despite Chopper's aching shoulders, there were loaders moving around the ships like so many insects around a flower. He'd simply chosen not to use one, preferring to use his muscles after so long in the ship.

There were people he didn't know moving on their business and, while he got a few glancing looks and friendly nods, his scars prevented him from being mistaken for any of his brothers.

Looking down the line, Chopper saw Ahsoka's _Saber_ as well as another ship he knew, _Dancer's Pride,_ and smiled. Besides Rex and Ahsoka, Numa was here along with either Boil or Waxer. It was shaping up to be a good visit.

Numa's family also traveled the edge of the Outer Rim, visiting Saleucami and Dantooine only occasionally, but always with questions for Cut and Jek or Col and Adwr about farming, about eopies, nerf and bantha, about plants and business. They often came with information, rumors that would make their way to Cody and Rex, then were on their way again quickly. There was no dispute about their commander; Numa gave the orders in that small family and, while Waxer and Boil would present alternatives and provide information, when she made a determination they simply nodded their agreement. Chopper was fairly sure they, too, were 'kidnapping' Imperial stormtroopers and turning them into brothers.

Finished hangar portions of Kierzon's cavern had been expanded and there were more ships, ships he wasn't familiar with and he wandered among them, looking for other ships he might know; Cody's _Emerald Lady_ or Riposte's _Spear_ perhaps.

Riposte had returned to Saleucami with news of the refugee family that had taken him to their heart so long ago. The Empire had not been kind to them and of the ten members of his original 'family', only two survived. Riposte, hard and angry, had brought them home; a quiet youngling boy and a lean woman who matched Riposte for anger. After meeting with Riposte's other family headed by Edge and Cass, the boy preferred living on Saleucami. Whenever and where ever they landed, everyone knew that Riposte and the lean woman would always be leaving again soon.

Of Riven and Dare, they'd heard nothing more. Checkout and Backup had gone together, still arguing about cooking breakfast, but inseparable. Cody and Jesse had heard rumors of two brothers in a battle in a shipyard; possibly their two pilots, possibly not. Cut continued to hold the vials of cure in case.

Echo was on Shili; researching useful information and rumors then passing it around appropriately, but determined not to leave Aureki, the children and it was a handful of children now, or the planet. Barin was old enough that he often traveled with Rex and Ahsoka, but had asked to stay on Saleucami for a season.

Fives and Sula also had stayed on Saleucami this go round and Djinn had smilingly volunteered to travel with Saoha and Chopper. Chopper and Saoha had considered staying with Cut and the ever-extending family, with bean only a half year old, but Sa' was restless and wanted to be out finding troopers who wanted a life larger than the Imperial army. Chopper smiled thinking of his shared wife and his son.

After Chopper had checked the stormtrooper for weapons and traps, Murdo and Kellen, two stern-faced brothers from Gorman with a hatred of almost all things Imperial, had taken the new guy to in-brief to wait for Saoha and Chopper. There'd be others there as well; more brothers to show the deserter they existed and he wasn't the first, some citizens – maybe a Twi'lek or two and one of the Mon Calimari.

"Hey, Chopper," it was a brother's voice and Chopper turned, not at all surprised to see a wave from Waxer looking like nothing so much as some hick from some backwater planet … like Saleucami or Dantooine. A light fuzz over his scalp and face showed he still preferred to shave and he was wearing a tattered nerfhide coat over a shirt decorated with fine stitches, dark blousy trousers and sturdy boots. Chopper laughed. He was a near match except he had long ago decided to grow his silver-streaked hair out a bit. It was his trousers, closer cut to his legs, that had fine embroidery and his coat was back on _Wild Card_. As he moved toward the ship, Numa came down the ramp, tall and slender, walking like a scout.

"Good to see you, Waxer. Numa, will I get a re-match this go round?" Chopper was at their ship in several easy strides and giving the young woman a firm hug. She hugged him tightly back. "Is Boil well?" Numa's family never traveled together and Chopper knew that was Numa's choice. There was no dispute about their commander.

"I don't think so, _nerra_ Chopper," she smiled softly, answering his first question, "but we shall see. Boil is well." She turned to Waxer. "If you will close down the _Pride_, I will meet you…" she glanced at Chopper with a raised eyebrow, "all? In the mess for dinner."

"Sa' will be glad to see you, Numa." He chuckled. "She wants to discuss 'recruiting tactics' with you."

"It will be good to talk with her." She glanced at Waxer then gave a shy grin. "Perhaps we can discuss things of interest to women. It is the one thing I find lacking in my husbands."

Waxer groaned laughingly and shook his head as she left the two brothers behind. "Material, Chopper. She loves to talk material; its texture, its color, its drape, weave, decoration. _Kriff,_ Chopper, I know more than I want about material!"

Chopper chuckled and nodded. "Saoha's particular weakness is jewelry. She doesn't necessarily want to own it, but she wants to see all of it, try it all on." He leaned against the ship and observed Waxer push a few supply boxes from the ramp. "Why do I never see you with new men, Waxer?" Chopper asked, his arms folded over his chest as he waited for Waxer to finish and close down _Dancer's Pride_. "I know you get deserters. According to Rex, you three are ahead of me and Sa'. So why do I never see them?"

Waxer slowed, his movements becoming more deliberate as he thought. "We don't bring them home, Chopper." Waxer shook his head softly. "We get them out. We show them something of society, answer their questions and we make suggestions. That's all, Chopper." He slung a final cargo box down the ramp and Chopper bent, sliding it onto the cavern floor. Waxer continued speaking. "Like Boil did at the prison. Get them out, supply them with information and, sometimes, goods then watch them go. We don't tell them we're rebels." He smiled. "Not as if they don't know, but we don't _tell_ them and we don't ask them to join us. Not a single one has been interested in becoming a rebel."

Waxer stood, dusted his hands and keyed the ramp closed. He looked into Chopper's eyes; brown to brown and gold. "How many of your brothers would join this Rebel Alliance if they didn't think they'd meet Sa' again? Or other women like her?"

Chopper grunted an embarrassed chuckle. "It's not as if the Rebel Alliance has a monopoly on women." But he knew Waxer's words were true.

"They don't know that, Chopper." Waxer's face was sad. "All this time and all they've really had was the army. As far as they know, women who would be interested in a 'clone'," Waxer spat the word angrily, "are as rare as a natural sabacc, as rare as the albino gundark." He paused. "And they're getting older, faster."

Chopper nodded. "Let's discuss that with Sa' and Numa over dinner." He looked around. "Where did Numa go? She seemed in a hurry."

Waxer's face began to curl into a smile, then a wide grin which Chopper recognized from his own so-recent past.

"She's gone to see Kix?" he asked, with his own smile, and Waxer nodded with a shrug of his shoulder and a slight movement of his eyebrow.

"She says she might be pregnant and wants Kix's assessment."

Chopper laughed and grabbed Waxer around the shoulder, giving him a hug. "Congratulations, my brother. Congratulations. I'll let you hold little bean for practice. Unlike Peach, he likes pretty much everyone." He grinned. "It will be a good dinner tonight. Come on with me to in-brief. Sa' and Djinn should be there soon and we'll debrief the new guy. There's a couple more people for you to meet and you can look over our techniques; compare them with yours and Numa's."

Waxer laughed knowing he felt the same camaraderie as Chopper. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Quad's fingers moved over the console in the cavernous room. Banks of communication equipment were pushed against the wall along with chairs and desks. The newly white-plastered walls reflected the light but it was a cold light and Quad reminded himself to re-check the ambient temperature and humidity. He flicked a red-lit switch and called out, "Test, line thirty four. Re'pond."<p>

"Line thirty four correct," came Shaeeah's voice over the speaker, a little too loud for comfort and Quad winced.

"Vo'ume down by four," he instructed, speaking slowly to make sure he was speaking clearly. S_lowly_, he always reminded himself.

"Is this better?" She adjusted the base volume.

"Much, S'aeeah. You s'ou'd be in…" he glanced over at the schematics, the outer blade of his weak hand holding down the flimsi which had a tendency to curl up at the edges and roll. "Room sev'teen, cor'dor five." There was a moment's pause.

"No," she sighed deeply. "Room twelve. At least the corridor is correct. It looks like a kitchen. There's lots of unattached attachment connections, a wall of several sinks and a large area for tables and benches."

Quad smiled. Over the last couple of years of his rehabilitative therapy, she variously engaged him in conversations and pushed him to enunciate more clearly. Shaeeah made sure he didn't hide himself by inviting his brothers and sisters for visits and conversations, and prevented others from tiring him too much or pushing him to frustration. She was with him and listened, asked questions, made suggestions every time Kix or Saria visited their small home. Shaeeah massaged his wounded body, played endless finger games to improve his dexterity. Most, if not all of his improvement, he thought, could be laid in her slender palms.

"Good 'nough, S'aeeah. By the way, love you." He held the stylus awkwardly in his hand, preparing to write down the information. He found the room on the map; checked and corrected the number as he noted markings for water and electricity and a generator. He nodded to himself, there was a consistency in the errors they were seeing. "What are the readings?"

Wonderful man," Shaeeah giggled softly then recited the codes of the electronic receiver, going slow enough for him to get all the numbers of the frequency. The dimensions of the room were calculated automatically by the acoustic receiver and would be transferred to his console when she brought back the receiver. Quad had to be neat about writing the numbers on the diagram. He looked at his writing and shook his head. The letters and numbers were readable but, except for their small size, looked like the scrawlings of Suu's youngest child.

This wasn't from his hand, this was from his mind. His 'neat' wasn't very and he spelled out the colors – badly, he knew, phonetically, with a line of the correct color above the word. A double-check that he, not Shaeeah, not Rex, not even Cody, insisted on. Part of his brain said the words were correct even as another part of his brain knew that was wrong. "Confirm; nine one blue four one four seven red."

"That's confirmed, Quad. Let me guess, wrong room?" The exasperation in her voice carried over the speaker. He chuckled.

"R-right room. Wrong code."

There was another pause from her end of the comm unit; then a chortle of laughter as she caught the joke.

"Come on back, Sha. Gettin' tired." It had taken him and his pride a long time to learn to confess that. He hadn't thought he had any pride remaining after his return to Saleucami. Kix had let him know exactly how much extra work his pushing himself and ignoring his limits, cost Shaeeah.

He set his hands against his power chair and stretched, pushing with his arms and straightening; lifting himself from the chair with the strength of his arms. Even his weak arm was strong these days; he had no dexterity in that hand, but his arm strength was good. Not that his nerveless legs were cramped, but it felt intellectually good to 'stretch his legs' and the muscles of his back. He lowered himself back to the chair and was flexing his back and shoulders from leaning over the desk when Rex entered the communications center. Quad turned the power chair at the sound and smiled at the captain.

"Still here?" Rex raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had changed from his flight suit into something more suitable for Dantooine; bantha-hide boots, trousers and a belted tunic.

"Jus' finishing. Shae's coming for me." Quad made an effort to enunciate more clearly for the captain who wasn't used to Quad's speech. Quad had spent a year mourning himself; wishing for death and doing nothing. Then three years of therapy and practice and training. Now he made the effort. Apparently he was the only one surprised at how much progress he had made.

Rex nodded. "How is it?"

Quad gave a soft laugh and shook his head. "Wiring and mag 'trips comp'etely random. We got what we paid for."

Rex shrugged. They hadn't paid for it and everyone knew that. Dantooine Base had been a modified cavern, prepared and made livable by Col's clans in an amazingly short time. There were bound to be errors. "Can it all be straightened out in time for the ships' arrivals? There'll be about two thousand rebels to start. Twenty to twenty-five large transports and perhaps fifty fighters are following us over the new few days." At the moment, there were only about a hundred rebels living in the caves.

Quad took a deep breath and nodded. It had been a long day and he knew he slurred badly when he was tired. "Mos'ly. Some areas require re-wriring. Give me dree brudders." He winced at how his words came out, he _was_ tired. Shaeeah would be exhausted from walking the caves. They'd both sleep deep tonight.

"I can't spare more than two," admitted Rex as he rubbed his palm over his chin. "And that's pushing it." Most of the brothers they knew were in the caves, helping set it up; their previous experience as troopers extremely valuable and helpful.

Quad frowned, his strong hand massaging the weaker; the fingers of his weaker hand gripping the fingers of his stronger; therapy turned to habit. "Pax, Ripos'e 'vail'ble? Dey do wiring and Ripos'e mag 'trips, idee locks, coders."

"I can give you both men until our deadline." Rex nodded then smiled as he leaned against the console. "How does it feel to be back on Dantooine, Quad?"

"Good. A chance to see brudders I mist." Quad grinned. "Gossip with sisters, play with chil'ren. Very good to see new chil'ren." He rolled up the schematics of the newly emerging base and tucked them into the holder in his chair then held up his fingers, ticking them off with his other hand. "Dub twins, Pax dau'er, Gekko son, Col's two and two, Kayl's baby, Lev and Countdown wives' pregnant. Chil'ren of clan marriage, adopted chil'ren. Those on Saleucami." He made a fist and laughed, delighted. "So many chil'ren, so much fam'ly, Rex. There is strength in fam'ly."

Rex leaned forward a bit, slightly uncomfortable. "No insult meant, Quad, and you can tell me to leave it be; but how goes your own baby making project?"

Quad let out a heavy breath and shook his head regretfully. "No insult, brother. Sha is not cop'rative. I s'poke with Es'ketch and Ch'opper. Cody too. All s'are, each man willing, their women willing and proud. Sha like them, but say no. Only me." Quad shook his head sadly. "Will not hap'n that way." His voice was wistful and he paused, facing the floor. "Functional at times." He gave a lop-sided grin at Rex even though his eyes were sad. "Not all the time." Then he shook his head again. "But Kix and Saria say I prob'ly can't make her pregnant." His amber eyes caught Rex's in humor. "'tubborn Sha."

"All the best women are stubborn, Quad." Rex returned a smile and put his hand on Quad's shoulder. "All the best, most worth-while women in the galaxy are all as stubborn as stones."

Quad grinned. "Clones are more stubborn."

"Stones, clones or women," smiled Shaeeah as she came into the room, the headset around her neck. "I think I walked into the punch line and missed the joke."

She gave Rex a welcoming hug then moved to stand next to Quad, her arm circled around him. Quad watched her with a pleased and possessive smile on his lips reaching up to touch her fingers and she touched him with a pleased and possessive demeanor.

Rex wouldn't have put credits on them as a couple on Saleucami nearly five years ago; a fourteen-year old farm girl and a clone trooper who hadn't even seen a woman until escape from prison? That had been infatuation and curiosity. He certainly wouldn't have made any bets after Quad's accident; Quad sulking like a child and Shaeeah determined to marry, in spite of what her mother and Saria thought. in spite of good sense, in spite of anything. But it had worked out. Shaeeah may have wanted him on Saleucami like a child wants a toy. She might have convinced herself she was in love with him when she'd shown up on Dantooine with too much pride to listen to common sense. But it was in the daily living and growing when they'd returned to Saleucami that Quad and Shaeeah had become opposite halves of the same thing.

"We're about to…" began Shaeeah, her words crushed by noise as an explosion ripped through the near-empty corridors of the base. Quad nearly slipped from the chair and caught hold of the console. Shaeeah screamed in pain and threw down the headphones. Rex, also at the console, was flipping switches.

"_Kriff_, what's live? Find it, Quad," he ordered, reverting to the captain he'd once been.

Half off his chair and holding himself by one arm leaning against the console, Quad had the coordinates. The explosion had come from someplace Shaeeah had already calibrated; someplace that was 'alive' in the enormous cavern or her headphones wouldn't have activated. But not all the electronics were alive in their base so he tracked it by acoustic measurements.

"In-b'ief. Near hangars," said Quad, his eyes going over the console, then he looked up at Rex. "New guy, Sa'ha, Din. Cor'dor dree, room twon-sev'n." Rex was out the door at a run. Quad gestured to Shaeeah; she knew the base best. "Go wif."

Shaeeah gave a quick nod and was out the door barely an instant after Rex.

An explosion in their new base wasn't good. He called medical, hoping Kix had been there and not near the explosion, not near in-brief where he'd be about half the time to help the new brothers.

"Where?" Kix's voice came on-line.

"In-b'ief, leas' five maybe ten peo-po." _Kriff_, he was slurring badly.

"In-brief, five to ten possible casualties," repeated Kix. "If you can, get Chopper or Larim to meet me."

"Dere." Quad swallowed. "Maybe casu'ties. Rex, Sha go he'p."

Kix was quiet a moment then he spoke again, his voice hard and tight – like the battlefield medic he'd once been. "I'm headed there, Quad."

There was a woman's voice, "Waxer's went with…" then medical closed circuit.

Quad licked his lips and composed the next message in his head, mentally seeing his lips form the words, avoiding words that would be hard for him to pronounce. This one wasn't going out to just his brothers. It was for everyone scattered throughout the cavernous base; people who didn't know him.

"Attention. Attention. Exp'osion," well, he couldn't have avoided that word, "near hangar four three. All s'heck in with area warden. Firs' re-sponders to area." _They should all know their area wardens,_ thought Quad. _We drill them enough_. "Damage unknown. Any medical background, let Rex or Kix know." Quad was pretty sure everyone knew Rex and Kix had cleared medical with most of the workers.

Quad pulled what information he could from the console, checking sonic vibration, checking the integrity of the stone cavern near the explosion and broadcasting that message out as well. There was only minor structural damage.

He worked hard, doing everything he could think of doing. Because he didn't want to think about what might have happened. But there were only so much he could do; only so much he could find out. When he was finished and there was nothing else, he slowly slid from the console's table surface to the floor. He made sure his lifeless legs were not twisted under him then he waited. Waiting like when he'd been a trooper; waiting with gut-wrenching dread.

He was still waiting, on the floor and leaning against the console; his eyes tightly shut against tears when Shaeeah finally returned. It was late and he recognized her footsteps. He turned his head and a glance at her told Quad more than he wanted to know.

"Who dead, Sha?" He asked.

She was silent as she slid next to him, curling into his chest. His weaker arm came around her shoulders and pulled her head next to his. New tears streaked her face over older tear tracks and her clothes were streaked with blood.

"Saoha," she whispered and Quad shut his eyes again in pain. "Djinn, Waxer, Kayl, Dyshaea, Murdo, Kellen, three more rebels and the clone who Saoha brought. Chopper and Porkins were injured, Larim, surface scratches. Rex has delayed the arrivals of the others until we find out what happened."

Quad shook his head. "How?" he asked softly, then harder. "How did he smugo 'posives with Sa'ha?"

"Rex, Ahsoka and Larim think the trooper didn't know. They think it was something the Kaminoans did to his body chemistry. Twisting his genetics further than imaginable. Linking explosives inside him to his emotions and using that as the trigger."

Quad was horror-struck. "Body chem'try?"

Shaeeah nodded and stood. "That's what they think," her voice quivered. She lowered the power chair for Quad, helping him back into the seat.

"Let's go home." She turned toward him, her small, cold hand in his larger hand and dropped her forehead to his chest. His other hand came up, stroking her lekku to comfort. "I want a child. We'll ask Baffle and Jesse and Cody. Not Chopper now. Even," Shaeeah sobbed. "Even if he lives that would only…"

Quad nodded. In losing Saoha, Chopper had lost a large part of himself. Shaeeah turned her face into his chest, held by his arms, her sobs muffled by his clothing and the protective circle of his body. Then she sniffled and looked up into his eyes, her face blotchy patches of light green and coral.

"If I can't know the child is yours, I don't want to know who the father is." She gulped back her tears. "You understand, don't you? That if it is the four of you, I can always believe it is your child?"

"Yes, Sha," he whispered. "I understand. We go home soon ath you with."

Her head came up and she looked at him with her jaw square and firm. "Not til it's done, Quad. Not until you've made this base the best, impenetrable, invisible to electronic eyes."

Quad nodded as he hugged her tightly, closing his eyes and tucking his head into her neck. His own tears ran down her face.

* * *

><p><em>They'd lost others but never anyone so close and so violently; three brothers and two wives who'd left children too young to understand.<em>

_The attrition of war had begun._

_Crux was dead these five years and now Waxer, Djinn and Kayl had joined him._

_Backup, Checkout, Riven and Dare hadn't ever returned though Cut kept the small vials for them in ever diminishing hope they would one day come home, walking down the long lane and past the friendly trees._


	4. Into the Gundark's Den

**Into the Gundark's Den**

His Serene Highness Bail Organa, First Chairman and Viceroy of Aldaraan, stately in some sort of ceremonial garb, shuffled off the long, fur-lined cape and sat with an exhausted sigh, the ceremonial sword at his side dangling over the edge of the chair. He made a gesture to the palace guards who moved out of the room though they eyed his visitor, dressed in dark trousers and a well-worn coat with the careless disregard of one not used to protocol, with barely concealed distaste.

Bail gestured to a nearby chair as he tossed the cape over the back of a couch. The clone sat with a soft grunt. Bail had noticed a new limp when he'd been escorted into the room and his face was thin with recent deprivation.

Bail reached for the ever-present tray of sweetbits and offered them to Cody.

"Ever the responsible host," Cody smiled wanly but his fingers reached out for a cream-filled pastry and he took a bite.

"I finally understand Chelly's desire to push food at someone," Bail countered. "You look…" Bail paused, for once in his politician's career, unable to think of the correct word.

"Terrible?" Cody chuckled as he took the second and final bite of the pastry and swallowed with a contented sigh. "Everyone has told me. Including men I used to command. Including men I _still_ command."

Bail gestured at Cody's leg. "And do they make comments about your limp?"

"More than you know, Bail." Cody actually laughed and Bail breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever had happened, Cody had some good news, some small success to report. Bail raised an eyebrow in question at Cody's words and Cody nodded, reaching for another pastry; this one covered in high-fat/high-protein nuts.

"I was shot," Cody leaned forward, shifting his weight in the chair. "In the ass. Running. Away."

"They assume you a coward?" Bail wasn't sure of the culture among the clones or among whatever people Cody had settled with, but he was pretty sure he remembered hearing something about cowardice among the clones when he'd been on Christophsis at the beginning of the Clone War.

Cody shook his head. "My men know better than that." There was pride in his voice. Bail understood why; Cody's Men – Cody's Command – Cody's Deserters, whatever they were called, were gaining a reputation for getting impossible things done. "Running from those kinds of odds is called a judicious retreat. But they still laugh." Cody gestured at the tray and Bail took a treat himself. "How go politics, Bail?"

"It's no better, Cody," he shook his head, the sugar-nut in his fingers forgotten. "It's never any better and I wonder whether it will be in my lifetime." He looked up into Cody's brown eyes, surrounded by the crescent scar and fine lines of worry. Bail recognized the two furrows between his eyebrows. On Aldaraan they called them 'parent's lines'. Because it was always over someone you cared about. Bail had his own set of lines for adventurous Leia, quiet Winter and the entire planet of Aldaraan.

Bail knew Cody included so many of the stormtroopers in the lot he counted as brothers as well as his small company of deserters. Bail had some suspicions of who was in that company but he never asked. Already, Bail knew too much to feel comfortable almost anywhere in the Empire – including places in his own palace.

Bail contemplated the sugar-nut he realized he had in his fingers. "Has the security situation been taken care of?" Bail tossed it into his mouth then started unbuttoning the outer jacket of his dress uniform, trimmed in gold. "Admiral Ackbar is quite firm that his fleet will not go into a place of rest where there is no security." He paused a moment in the act of removing the large pendant on an equally large chain from around his neck. Solemnly, he ran his fingers of the seal and set it carefully on a table. "I'll tell you that he doesn't have much choice and it's mostly bluster. He'll take – gladly – anything you can offer."

"The situation has been … corrected," Cody nodded sadly. "It was a singular aberration. A deserter wasn't quite as peaceful as he seemed but we have taken further precautions against such an event." He leaned back in the chair, one hand pressing against his thigh where, Bail knew, an old scar occasionally troubled him. "The security came at a high price."

Bail frowned, hoping it wasn't a cost of money; that Cody hadn't come asking for money. Credits were in short supply even from planetary governments. "Didn't you mention a Zeltron? How did …"

"He didn't know, Bail." Cody's voice was strained and Bail turned his full attention on the former commander suddenly realizing the cost hadn't been in credits, but in lives.

"_He_ was the explosive, Bail. You know we clones were created and the Fett DNA enhanced to its highest potential. This trooper," Cody paused. "His DNA was stretched beyond imagination to become … unstable and tied to an emotion as the detonator." Cody grimaced and turned sad eyes toward Bail. "Happiness."

For a moment there was silence as each man sat, unmoving; Bail horrified at such cruelty and Cody, his head bowed, simply remembering the aftermath of that travesty; how the deserter's _happiness_ had brought them all such rage and sorrow.

_He, Jesse and Shy were escorting remnants of the __Renatasian __fleet of just over twenty fighters and three transports when they received the emergency message halting the armada of rebel fighters. Against Admiral Shanga's wishes, Cody had gotten one of the pilots to ferry him to Dantooine; even so, he'd had to leave the pilot and fighter at Clan Gwydr's grounds. Shanga's small fleet had departed the __Raioballo__ system by the time Cody's feet touched Dantooine soil. _

_Kierzon and Gekko had met Cody and silently escorted him to the cavern; the camp had been quiet except for the lowing of bantha and one tent where Cody heard a family mourning; crying and screaming in pain. It was a sound Cody knew; his heart made a similar noise every time he'd lost a man – GAR, prison or after._

_Cody had heard the voices raised in argument long before he reached the mess that doubled as a meeting room. Gekko had frowned and dropped his head reaching out a hand to touch Cody's arm. "Sir," his voice had been soft in pain and regret. "I go no further. I've renounced any right to rebellion for the foreseeable future." The man looked miserable, as though he was afraid, as if Cody would call him hut'tuun. Coward. When there was no immediate answer Gekko turned and walked back toward the outside, back to the grassy plains and the tufted shoulder fur of the nerf bulls, back to the grunts and low calls of the bantha. _

_Cody's eyebrows twisted in confusion and he was about to call Gekko back when Kierzon spoke._

"_He and Lev have taken over raising the children."_

"_The children?" Cody's eyebrows went up in shock. There'd been children involved?_

_Kierzon nodded. "Kayl and Dyshaea left a baby girl. She's doing well enough but keeps crying for her mama." He paused and frowned. "Saoha died and Kix isn't sure Chopper will make it but it looks as though their child won't make it either. He doesn't cry, but he doesn't…" Kier's face twisted as though he were about to break into sobs, but he pulled himself under control. "He doesn't react. Like he's in shock."_

_Cody closed his own eyes in sorrow. They'd paid in blood and this was only the beginning. _

"_There will not be any further recruiting!" It was a shout, hard and angry with raging fury, coming from the mess. Cody opened his eyes, startled by the fury in that voice._

"_I think I can find my way from here, Kier," Cody had put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Let Gekko and Lev know I understand." He gave Kierzon a slight smile. "There are things more important than rebellion, reasons the rebellion is fought."_

_Kierzon raised an eyebrow in disbelief then nodded and turned. Cody watched him go for a moment then he turned and walked from the corridor right into that cacophonous argument._

"_A rebellion is no better than the ideals it defends." That was a woman's voice; not shouting but no less angry for its softness. Cody recognized Numa's voice. She'd grown; he remember when she'd only been six and adopted Boil and Waxer. What was she now? Twenty? Twenty-one? _

_Another raised voice echoed from the room. "You cannot deny your brothers the freedom you enjoy." The cadence and timbre were familiar, but Boil had never, to Cody's knowledge, raised his voice to that harsh volume and angry tone._

"_They can be free, but not in my base."_

"_It's not your base, Rex." Cody's voice had been soft as he walked into the mess – both a place and a condition._

"_Nor yours," Rex had snapped back. "But the people here are under my care."_

_Cody couldn't disagree with that, though at the moment he couldn't disagree with anything. "What happened here?"_

"_The trooper blew up." _

_Cody didn't recognize the man, save that he wore a pilot's gear; he was light-skinned with brown hair, a mustache and small, neat beard. He'd been recently wounded, there were shrapnel scratches along one side of his face and one arm of the suit was ripped, revealing bandages. He stared at a table then he jerked his head up at Rex. "I disagree with your decision, Rex."_

"_Noted, Porkins." Rex smiled grimly. "I don't expect it to be a popular decision."_

_Even after Cody heard the entire sequence of events, he still found it hard to believe that a man, a trooper, someone with his own genes had simply blown up._

_Rex had fought; arguing against everyone, demanding, forbidding the recruitment of any new troopers. He'd been consumed with a rage that someone should endanger his brothers, his wife, his … people. Cody knew he sometimes had Barin with him. He'd lost brothers – family. Chopper had still been in ICU, too wounded to do anything more than whisper a few words which no one understood._

_Later Cody found out that Boil had come rushing in on a hyperdrive transport piloted by an unknown clone, to collect both Numa and the remains of Waxer. Cody had never seen the scout so rabidly angry, so openly emotionally. Oddly enough, not only for the loss of Waxer, but for the loss of men Rex demanded he no longer recruit. That argument had begun in anger and ended quietly in tears._

_Numa, pale and wan from so much crying, had touched Boil on the arm and he was silent, turning his face to hers in question. Then she had turned to Rex. "We will not return to Dantooine, Rex, but we will not stop recruiting brothers when we can."_

"_Numa," His voice had gone gentle and Cody had thought Rex might cry facing the lean Twi'lek woman. Tears were running down Ahsoka's face as she stood at Rex's side. Cody knew she disagreed with Rex but wouldn't say so publically. _

"_Please understand, I can't afford the uncertainty, the possibility it might happen again. We have no clue what happened and how this was done. We cannot guard against it."_

_Cody suddenly realized Rex didn't agree with his own decision; that he was torn and simply taking the more conservative action because he was responsible for all the people who came to the cave._

_Numa give a little ghost of a smile. "I do understand, Nerra Rex. You do this because you love your people." She gestured a circle with her hand, taking in the contents of the cavern. "I recruit your brothers because I love them and they are my people. I will not stop and you have forbidden it. I think we must part ways." She moved forward and put her arms around him, laying her head and lekku against his chest. "I will miss you, Rex and we will think of you often. Think of us, as well."_

_Rex pulled her closer. "I will think of you every day, Numa. You and Boil and Waxer and all the brothers you've freed out into the Outer Rim and Wild Space." Rex turned to Boil, observing him, the depth of his loss evident only to someone who knew him well. He clasped forearms. "Boil. I..." Words were so inadequate. "I'm sorry."_

Cody sighed and nodded to Bail. "It wasn't good but the situation won't happen again." He stretched his long legs out, rubbing the old wound on his thigh, giving himself some time while Bail pulled off his jacket and removed the sword, leaning over a desk as he consulted a small paper – how archaic, thought Cody – then nodded to himself.

"State dinner tonight. Mon Mothma will be there as well as Moff Tarkin. I suspect it will be a contentious dinner and no matter how good the food, it won't sit well." His lips twisted slightly in dark humor. "A good dinner for Leia's political training."

"Is Mon Mothma still outspokenly defiant of the emperor?" Cody tried to ignore that Bail also thought this would be a multi-generational conflict. Rex trained Barin, Bail trained Leia; how similar the two men were.

Bail nodded. "Sometimes I fear for her life. One day the emperor will realize that her words are like seeds; tiny in themselves but put to fertile minds and they will grow to bear fruit."

"I'll send you a man," Cody nodded. "You'll need to train him in politics and how to be an aide but he'll be one of my best."

_A clone._ One of Cody's best and Bail knew that meant a clone.

"Thank you, Cody."

Cody stood, a little woodenly at first, but a few movements had the stiffness worked out of his legs and he made his way to the door. His fingers were on the old-fashioned knob before he spoke again.

"I've got a man in, Bail." He said with a broken smile. "It will probably, ultimately mean his death and mine as well, but we've infiltrated the Imperial Army."

_Cody waited for Shy, he heard through the comm unit, Shy's words. They'd had found something only Shy could do… infiltrate a company._

"_Sir, yes sir. Direct from Coruscant, sir."_

_Cody could almost hear the snap as Shy saluted the company's captain. Almost fifteen years since Order 66; probably that long since Shy had been a trooper, and he still saluted and acted as shiny as though he'd come off Kamino yesterday._

"_I'm sorry, sir. I am unaware of who processed my orders. I was on Kamino for r…r….reconditioning. I only know I was supposed to report immediately. Barracks twelve? CS-1935? Sir, yes sir, I'll find it." There was a moment's pause. "I'm sure they'll come in soon, sir."_

_Orders; that was Cody's duty and they were impeccably real, provided by Numa._

_Jesse, also listening to the transmission, shook his head with a grin and caught Cody's eyes. "So, what will we steal this time?"_

_Cody's expression went grim. "Nothing."_

"_Nothing?" Jesse let out a breath and he noted Cody's sorrowing expression. "Then this is bigger than the star-destroyer we stole? That one made me want to retire this job."_

_Cody nodded. When Jesse talked about retiring, he wanted to go home. He wanted to visit his family; Edge and Cass and Baffle and the children – three of them brought to Saleucami by Jess as he searched for the children of Order 37. Jesse said it made him remember why he was doing all this crazy stuff. He said the best times were when Riposte was there also. Riposte had found the remnants of the refugee family he'd once belonged to and had formed a rebel cell with the survivor. _

_Shy usually returned to Saleucami with Jesse and stayed with Cut and his Captain Suu. Suu would be angry not to see Shy coming up the lane, a grin on his face._

"_I think you might want to retire. At least until you get bored with it. We won't be coming back here for a while." Cody knew that Jesse couldn't take 'retiring' for more than eight or nine months. Then he would dream of Elarlu Cihon and go, once again, in search of children before finding Cody._

_Jesse frowned. "We can't leave Shy without…"_

"_Backup would only prove he's a spy, Jesse. He's on his own." _

_There was silence between the two men who'd been together almost a decade then Jesse sighed deeply and spoke._

"_Cap'n Suu won't be happy with what you've done with her trooper."_

"_No, Jesse, I don't think she will. I'm going to be hut'tuun and let you face her. I'll be going to Dantooine." _

_Jesse merely nodded._

_Then being recognized at the port, being chased by five hundred men as good as them, but not quite as motivated. Getting shot – not enjoyable – and having to hide for several long weeks, constantly on the move, as they waited for a chance to leave the planet._

Cody strode along the long hallways of Bail's palace to the private landing where an unknown pilot waited to take him to Dantooine. "Nerfherder central," the man had joked and Cody had merely nodded.

Dantooine Base was functioning more as an outpost than a garrison which Cody hoped the arrival of Admiral Ackbar's fleet would change. It was a hidden base with such potential, so wonderfully situated and the rebellion they had foreseen on Saleucami was beginning to coalesce. Overseeing the base with Col and Rex was only one part of going to Dantooine Cody enjoyed.

There was a woman there. They didn't talk about forever or children or love. They were both satisfied with the arrangement and with each other. There was kindness and care for each other in both of them. Sometimes Cody wondered who she had lost, but he never asked her. She never asked him about the bracelet of beads around his wrist.

Quad had spoken to him and Jesse about giving Shaeeah a child. He had presented it as a possibility and Cody had agreed. Shaeeah was pregnant now, maybe already a mother. Cody shut his eyes. He'd be uncle Cody to the child, Quad would be the father.

Sometimes Cody wondered if he wanted a child of his own; but it was an abstract, occasional desire. He wanted this base more, he wanted his brothers free and the Empire gone, the emperor dragged from his throne. _That_ was Cody's child, the one he nurtured and cared for; the one he had given up a sound body for and the reason he had sent reconditioned Shy alone into the gundark's den.

* * *

><p>As always, read and enjoy... reviews would be nice also.<p> 


	5. Seeking the Gundark

Shy's previous appearances were in Haruu 8 – Decisions and Haruu 29 – Grain and Haruu 35 – Epilogue.

JAAC's previous appearances were toward the end of Haruu – Chapters Haruu 30, 34 and 37.

**The Gundark's Den**

Shy ran his copper-colored eyes over the others in the barracks.

They were droids.

All of them.

Probably commandos.

No matter that so many of them looked like his brothers or had the right voices, Shy knew they weren't his brothers. They were flesh droids. One stood and came over to Shy and Shy saluted the sergeant.

"One-four-seven, reporting for duty, sir." The commander had given him the information. One forty seven, the real One-four-seven who would one day have a real name, had been taken by Numa and Boil to someplace like home. Shy was glad of that, he was glad that another brother had escaped, glad that he had another brother somewhere.

Another brother meant one less flesh-droid.

"Welcome to Fifth Squad," said the sergeant. "We're fairly informal; no need to salute here in the barracks or in the mess."

"Yes, sir." One of the flesh droids rolled his eyes at Shy's formalily but Shy couldn't help himself. He removed the helmet, holding it in the crook of his arm and rubbing the temple nervously then relaxed into parade rest. "Sir, I need to tell you," he paused, his mouth working soundlessly then Shy looked down at the deck. "I've been fully re-re-reconditioned. Whatever specialty I used to have," he looked into the sergeant's eyes mirroring his own, "I'm pretty sure it's gone."

"We're a trooper unit," smiled one of the man sitting on a bunk without looking up from polishing his armor.

"Pure and simple ground pounding, blasters and cannons." Another commando wearing a trooper's skin said.

"We leave the fancy stuff to Vader's Fist." The sergeant nodded at his men.

"Infantry grunt," Shy nodded. "I can do that." He turned to the droid disguised as the sergeant. "You let me know what you want and I'll do my best."

"Good enough, 147, good enough," replied the sergeant.

Oddly, it wasn't hard to constantly remember that he couldn't trust them. Neither was it hard to follow the orders given him by the droids disguised as his new captain and sergeant. He only had to look at them to see the truth of them. They looked like droids, the same with no individuality save only the dents and scraps of battle.

The main directives from Captain Suu and Commander Cody slept in his mind; Captain Suu's far more important but never spoken aloud. She'd been the first to take in a trooper; she had become the center of _family_.

"Do what you can, trooper." Those had been Commander Cody's words and the commander had lifted his hands as if to reach around Shy and hug him tightly.

Shy had stood straight and tall, saluting sharply. It usually made the commander wince though Shy didn't understand why; he always made sure it was a proper salute. The last time it brought bright tears to Cody's eyes and he had saluted back as formally as he had saluted when they'd buried Crux beside the gathering stone.

Shy was good enough friends with the flesh-droids. When they fought, he covered them against the others. Together they ate and laughed and discussed life since Kamino or wherever the new ones had come from. Sometimes they'd ask him something – maybe his opinion. Shy would shrug. "I don't have much left up here," he'd say, tapping his temple, "let me listen to you."

Sometimes they laughed at him; a few of the flesh-droids made fun of his reconditioning and some of his other habits like always sleeping with his back to the wall with a blaster in his arms. Like twirling the eggs they sometimes got in the mess. Like his overly formal military ways.

He knew why they laughed so it didn't bother him. Shy let them laugh; their opinions were nothing to him. In the end, they were droids.

The ones they fought against weren't his brothers either although Shy felt a little more compassion for them. They were civilians – a breed of humanity he'd had no congress with. Their confusion was evident in the way they fought. They had no cohesion. They fought as single units rather than a squad or a company led by a commander. Their planning was none-existent. They usually fought on the defensive, and it was usually a running battle that devolved into a scattered retreat as the white-armored flesh droids marched into victory.

* * *

><p>"Jedi search," snorted one of the flesh-droids from his unit and Shy shrugged. Jedi hunts were common but true Jedi were elusive and squads usually come back from a Jedi hunt empty-handed.<p>

Still, Shy moved with military precision as he jogged toward the cargo area of the scavenger's transport. The ship was messy in the way that so many things non-military were messy. He knew that if there were any Jedi on the ship they would be in the cargo areas. Captain Rex's wife had told him that when he had asked her about rescuing him and his brothers. She and Captain Rex were the center of that _family_. She had smiled at him, a smile he kept deep in his memory and thought about only before battle so it would be one of his last thoughts in case he died. In the cargo area; lots of nooks and crannies to hid in. Easy to stow away and stay away. More important, he remembered, it was usually an area for them to more easily use the light sabers and their Jedi powers.

She wasn't a Jedi anymore; they'd taken away everything but her skills and memories. But she, like his captain, was the center of _family_. Shy grunted. Unlike him. They'd given him back everything but his skills and memories.

Voices came through his helmet, the others having no success searching for the rumored Jedi even as Shy glanced down at the girl.

Her blonde hair was short-cut; like so many of the old troopers he knew – kept short to stay out of the way. Her blue eyes were wide and there was a look of despairing terror on her face. Her fingers were slowly edging toward the metal cylinder of a light saber.

Commander Cody's and Captain Suu's directives overrode what the flesh droids wanted. This was a brother – well, a sibling at any rate. She was part of Captain Rex's _family_ though only Shy might ever know it.

He lowered and holstered the blaster ignoring that her fingers were touching the deadly cylinder. Slowly he opened his fingers wide and placed them in front of her face then gently reached to hook his thumb under the edge of his helmet and pulled it up. When his lips were clear of the helmet speaker he whispered two words. "Dantooine. Gwydr." He waited until she nodded slowly then he wheeled around, letting the helmet drop into its normal place. "Cargo bay. All clear," he called to the droids in brothers' skins through the speaker.

"One four seven, maintain watch on the cargo deck." He'd left his helmet on external audio for her; she could hear their movements, everything.

Shy glanced at her to see her watch him standing duty at the hatch of the cargo bay. He'd stand guard for her; if the droid stormtoopers came, he would warn her; he'd protect her. He smiled softly as she took a deep breath, relaxed and closed her eyes to the sound of his helmet broadcasting the movements of Imperial stormtroopers searching for Jedi.

In his mind, he counted it as something he'd done for _family_.

* * *

><p>"I don't like this, Nia." Bon pulled the coat, too light for Dantooine's weather, more tightly around his body. "He was a stormtrooper. This is probably just another trap like the Conclave on Kessel."<p>

"You didn't see him, Bon. You didn't _feel_ him." Nia shivered. The stormtrooper had disobeyed orders in not turning her in, in not searching further and discovering Bon. He had gone to to cargo bay door and stood guard, the intentions in his mind as clear as air. _Rest and I'll keep watch_. She'd slept and dreamed, not the nightmares of being chased, but a dream of space and stars and loving freedom. Nia had felt higher orders in his mind. She'd seen his shattered mind like broken crystal held together by something she couldn't understand – but something similar to conscience and duty and genuine _goodness_. Something similar to the presence of the Force surrounded him as he guarded her.

Bon sighed. He hadn't been able to turn Nia from what she was doing; he hadn't been able to come up with better plans. "At least this Gwydr Clan isn't too far from the city," he grumbled then stopped short catching… something … movement in the Force. A glance at Nia confirmed she'd also felt it. Both hands dropped to… near the light sabers they carried hidden.

"They heard you, Bird," it was a young girl's giggling voice. "I told you that you have to think like a bantha." She popped up from behind a shrub, her golden-brown eyes dancing with laughter.

"Bantha don't think of anything," complained another voice, also a girl youngling but slightly older than the other and with lighter hair and blue eyes. Both children wore thick clothing, snow-proof boots and long, nerfhide coats lightly embroidered with colorful thread. The girl called Bird took a step onto the path. "Welcome to Clan Gwydr grazing lands." She smiled and her blue eyes sparkled merrily. "Do you bring stories and tales for the firepit?"

"We were told to come to Gwydr on Dantooine." Bon answered absently as his eyes searched further. There was another presence, a _heavier, darker_ presence nearby.

The man stepped from behind a tree. He also wore thick clothing, though not a heavy coat, and his wide shoulders were bare but sweated from hard work. His face and one shoulder were covered with burn scars, but he looked strong. "Bird, Layol," the voice was sharp. There was battle-wariness in his stance and the hatchet in his hand was suddenly more than a simple tool for chopping brush into kindling. "Away from them. Now."

He moved forward, imposing his body between them and the girls who moved down the trail at their elder's command. "You've come too far," he said and Bon suddenly recognized a stormtrooper's visage among the scars and empty eye socket of the man's face. "You need to go back to the cave." He shook his head slightly. "There's nothing for you here."

Bon looked at him, letting his vision slide into the grey edge of the Force. The man was terrified, fear dripped off him in thick, black swaths tempered by waves of pale gold for the two girls and whoever lived further down the path.

"We mean no harm to anyone," Bon tried to placate the man but it was only when the two girl were far behind him and out of range that the man began to relax even slightly.

"I will take you to the cave." His voice was gruff and his eyes didn't move from Bon's hand, far too close to his light saber. Bon jerked his hand away and pulled the coat back over the weapon.

It was another stormtrooper – though he corrected them about that – who met them at a cave entrance and began escorting them through the tunnels. "Clonetrooper," the clone introduced as Countdown corrected, "Thanks for bring them, Jaac."

Jaac merely shrugged and turned back to the trail. "Tell 'Soka I'm learning."

Countdown smiled. "She'll be glad to hear that." He turned to the young man and slightly younger woman. "I was a clonetrooper before I deserted. Order 66 was more than I could tolerate." He read them at a glance, taking the hungry pair to the main mess before anything. Bon and Nia saw a few other storm or clone troopers on the way down the corridors but far more Mon Calimari, Twi'lek and Corellians; quite a few in flight suits. There were a few Mandalorians and Alderaani scattered as well. They received glances but no stares and not much notice even as they entered the brightly lit mess hall.

"Hey, Chopper. Just the man I'm looking for."

The man setting at the table with a mug in front of him and a toddler beside him looked up from the flimsis he was working on. He was also a storm… clonetrooper. His face was lined with scars on his skin and Bon saw the lines of sorrow in his life, skeins of pain woven in his existence.

Nia could only stare and Bon choked… "I'm… sorry," he whispered. A muscle twitched in the jaw of the scarred man, but he only nodded and gestured at the seats across from him. "Get me more caf, Countdown then go tell Kix."

"Kix?" asked the clonetrooper.

One side of Chopper's lips twisted into a small smile of amusement. "Rex wasn't as invincible as he thinks he should be and 'Soka took him to see Kix."

"Complaining the whole way, I suspect," Countdown retorted as he moved toward the counter where he pulled two cups of caf. He turned toward Bon and Nia and gestured toward the kitchens. "We're between meals at the moment, but there's always soup and bread."

Chopper nodded to Countdown's words. "Though not as voraciously as he complained last year or the year before. He's finally begun to realize he's mortal." Then the heavily scarred man turned his attention to the young pair and duplicated Countdown's motion toward the kitchen. "Soup. Bread. Now."

It was definitely an order.

By the time Countdown showed them the kitchen and they returned to the table with bowls of hot soup and warm bread on their trays, another clonetrooper and a Togrutan woman were seated with Chopper. The clonetrooper had silver-blond hair and his arm in a sling even as he rubbed red scratches along his neck and jaw with his other hand. "It isn't as bad as Kix thinks," he was saying to the Togrutan woman as she cradled the toddler.

The woman was seated between the two clones and playing with the dark-haired toddler who giggled. She looked up at them with a smile and joyful tears in her eyes.

Bon gulped and Nia almost dropped her tray but Countdown quickly steadied her with a comforting touch on the shoulder. The Togrutan woman was bathed in the energies of the Force; sleek, contained bright red and orange-yellow swirled with shadows of deep indigo. A trained Force-user, a Jedi!

Bon set down the tray and bowed to the woman. "Initiates Bon Mykoral and Nia Hanstele at your service."

No one wanted to hear their story until they had finished satisfying their hunger.

"He was a stormtrooper." Bon told the Togruta Jedi Knight - though she declined the title - as she inspected his lightsaber; the lightsaber of Sian Jeisel, reached out to him as she died from the explosion on Bogden. Nia's lightsaber, already inspected, had belonged to Master Du Mahn, also dead from protecting the younglings from Order 66. Bon and Nia trained each other, practicing what they knew; but with no one to teach them they'd grown no further then when they'd escaped Order 66.

"A shattered stormtrooper," correct Nia. "Like broken crystal held together by… hope and faith. When he lifted his helmet, I saw he had a scar near his lips." Her fingers traced the remembered scar on her own face. "It was deep and ran further up his face, under his helmet where I couldn't see.

Ahsoka nodded thoughtfully. "That sounds like Shy. Cody will be glad to hear about him. But what about you two? What plans do you have?"

The blonde clone spoke then, the first time since they had started talking with the Jedi. "We can take you to just about anywhere Mid- or Outer Rim."

Nia shook her head softly. "We're Jedi and it's our duty to fight this darkness."

"If you'll have us," Bon glanced up to the clonetrooper's golden-brown eyes. "If you'll have us, sir."

Rex nodded with a loving glance at 'Soka. As the only Jedi or Force-sensitive in their group, she'd been working herself far more than she would admit. He had taken more scars for her benefit and she knew it.

"You'd be welcome." Rex nodded.

* * *

><p>Rumors, there were always rumors and Shy tended to ignore rumors the way he ignored opinions and the laughter of the flesh droids sharing his barracks.<p>

Until Vader's Fist, until the 501st showed up in the sector with Vader leading them.

That was more than rumor. Whatever was coming was more than rumor and Shy knew he'd need to be ready.


	6. A Year of Seasons

NOTE: This is Riven's tale and was originally an epilog to Haruu; however I removed it after a few days because it belonged more to Haruu II.

The beginning and main part of this tale take place within 2 years of the end of Haruu.

**RIVEN**

From Saleucami, Riven asked to be taken to Tarunje. It was an Imperial outpost and both Rex and Cody tried to talk Riven out of going.

"I have to go," Riven said though he didn't explained why.

"Let him go," Jesse had said; Jesse with his bendu tattooed and scarred on his head, with a new tattoo – still sore – of a dark-haired woman on his shoulder.

Piratical Fives, one arm around rose-colored Saoha the other around ruby-red Sula, had laughed. "What is life without risk?"

Cody had nodded. "They can take him to Tarunje after dropping me and Jess off at Tatooine." There was still doubt in his eyes, doubt that General Kenobi was still alive, but he'd see for himself. Mandalore, he thought, was more important.

Rex had bitten his lip then nodded slowly. "You take care, Riven. No unnecessary…" his voice softened as he realized he no longer gave orders to a company of troopers. "You take care, Riven," he repeated.

Riven said his good byes; blinking back tears. He might never see his brothers again, might never see his newly-found sisters or hold his tiny niece in his arms or see the new children; but if he didn't leave soon, he might never leave. He packed his bowl and plate; the few things that Suu had provided for every trooper and climbed aboard the Silver Bird with Cody and Jesse for Tatooine and then Tarunje.

Riven was able to make it to the planet's surface only because there were so few Imperial troops. Tarunje had never been an important planet, the Velkor system was almost beneath notice and the only reason for the presence of Imperial stormtroopers was simply to demonstrate Imperial might.

'Imperial might' had included interrogations.

Riven hadn't thought of how the interrogations had affected the women. _Di'kut, mirosik!_ He shook his head. He hadn't even thought of pregnancy until Kix had taught him and his brothers more than the basic biology they'd been flash-trained as younglings on Kamino.

_Osik_, could you apologize for something like that? Could he apologize for invading their bodies the way he'd done to all three of them, the way the other stormtroopers had done?

Fives and Sula had let him off on the planet, handing him his share of money; just over two and a half thousand credits.

Fives had hugged him tightly. "Come home, soon, brother," he had whispered in Riven's ear. "Come home, soon."

Sula also had hugged him tightly, gracing him with a sweet kiss. She had combed her fingers through his hair and had tears in her eyes. "Don't expect anything good to come of this, Riven, except the light of truth."

"I don't," he had replied

"Liar," she said softly as a tear ran down the side of her nose.

He'd gotten into town before dawn and scouted around. There were clones there from the small base; those in town were mostly off duty. Riven had to avoid them, they'd know he wasn't in their small company, but their presence made dealing with civilians easier. He was glad he'd kept his hair military short.

Riven found the women quickly enough; he had remembered their names. Sometimes they haunted his dreams though more often they haunted waking moments of quiet solitude.

Answara di Gari he found in a local cemetery. Her wooden marker was worn and already disintegrating; it had been hard to find and harder to read. She had died ten months after her interrogation, but there was no information other than her name and the date of her death.

Riven had wanted to ask how had she died? Did she have a child? But no one would talk to a clone; no one would talk to a clone about a woman who'd been under Imperial interrogation. The few people he saw in the cemetery simply avoided him; looking down and finding somewhere else to be, something else to do. Riven knew he could get the information with his fists, but he didn't think Answara would approve.

Marjul of Gages was also found in a cemetery though someone had cared enough to buy a bronzium plaque to mark her grave. Riven ran his fingers lightly over the embossed name and the words 'in loving memory' above her dates of birth and death. She had died within a few week of her initial interrogation. He had stared at her simple marker. "I'm sorry Marjul," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Larumedhe DomSomayne Grace was the last woman he sought. It was an aristocratic name with the 'Dom'. He found her. He didn't know what, if anything, she had done when she'd been a member of the Hierarchy but now she was called Larua and sold her body at a tavern. It left a bitter taste in Riven's mouth and he'd had no thirst for the Corellian ale he'd purchased.

Now Riven just watched her, wondering so many things.

She stopped and set the bucket, heavy with water, down beside the trail between her home and the steam. She put her hands to the small of her back. Once she had stood tall and proud; now there was a tired slump to her shoulders, her neck bending with so much physical labor. Slowly she arched her back, pressing against muscles with her hands as she stretched. He'd been watching her for a week, now. She worked hard. Some nights she dressed in clothes marginally finer than what she usually wore, unbound her red-gold hair and went down to the bar not returning to the house until the soft pinks of dawn touched the sky. Yet she would still wake early to collect wood and water, to care for the small milk animal in the shed and let the nunas out to chase insects.

She had to range far to find wood and, after the second day, Riven had begun collecting wood and bringing it closer, scattering it near the stream as though tossed up by seasonal overflow or under older trees with dead limbs. He fought the urge to leave it on her doorstep.

When she'd left the first night, her hair a golden-bronze river down her back, Riven had gone into the cabin inspecting it in her absence. There were only two rooms; a bedroom with a large bed and an open room for cooking, dining, sitting. A trap door led to a cool, small half-cellar. The bedroom had clothes belong to the woman and smaller clothing fit for a child. Riven felt the cloth of a jacket with his fingers; it was worn thin and he noticed a draft in the room.

The rooms were clean and well-kept. She made round cheeses with the milk; several were rolled in moist gauze. Drying spices near the fireplace sent out a vaguely woodsy scent. A small pile of clothing was in a basket next to a chair comfortably close to the fireplace. Colorful childish drawings – unidentifiable to Riven – were hung on the wall.

There was an ambiance of waiting in the house. Just wait a moment and a happy child would run in to show her mother a flower or a bug. Just wait a moment and a woman would set some delicious food over the fire, the scent teasing the nose. Just wait a moment and… Riven had leaned against the wall, his vision misty with tears.

Even now, he watched her on the path, the thought of the cabin's interior made Riven unhappy. He wondered if Larua was unhappy; to have fallen from riches to a hovel on the forest's edge.

It had been harvest season and Larua had worn fine clothes when she'd been brought in for interrogation; dark, rich velvets and jewel-colored silks, a cape of silver-trimmed wool, her red-gold hair bound in pearls on silver wire. She'd been arrogant, certain that her family would come for her. They had, but that made no difference to the troopers with their orders. Her family brought food so she didn't have to eat the rough prison fare. More usually the troopers ate what her family had brought her. Riven remembered; it had been very good food. The best food he'd ever tasted until he had arrived on Saleucami and Suu had pressed soup and buttered bread on the freed men.

Riven sighed and pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes. She was here, she was alive, she'd been impregnated and had a child; all from the interrogation. What the _kriff _was he doing here? Apologizing? How could you apologize for something of that magnitude? How could he apologize for changing her life so drastically? He should just leave.

There was a noise; Riven didn't hear it but he did see her react. She turned and raised an arm in greeting, then started moving down the trail. Riven could see the head of someone coming up the trail. Whoever it was moved slowly, as if wounded. Then Riven saw the fast motion of a child; running and flinging arms around the woman's legs. She dropped to her knees and circled the small figure.

Tears blurred Riven's sight but he quickly wiped them away. He'd been half afraid she had sold the child or gotten rid of it in some way; that only clothes remained. Seeing her reaction, Riven didn't need to be told she loved the child. She held that small figure the way Rex held Barin, close to her heart.

Larua invited the other adult to the house; Riven could see her gestures and the welcoming posture of her body. The other person declined and turned back down the trail. Larua stood on the trail, one hand stroking the child's shoulders. He could read the love in that touch as well as the loneliness in her stance. She turned and retrieved the bucket, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

Riven ran his fingers over his lips. Tonight he'd collect some dried wood for her and, instead of setting it closer in the woods or by the stream, he'd bring it all to her doorstep. The next morning Riven sat back from the front porch with his hands on his knees, far enough that she would see him and be able to close the door and lock it before he reached her. Not that it could stop him if he chose; it was simply to give her some measure of feeling secure.

She saw him and simply straightened, tightening her shawl by curling her hand in the material. Her expression didn't change. "You're one of them." She said flatly and he winced.

"Yes, ma'am." He stood and began approaching the door slowly. She didn't slam the door or retreat back into the house. She simply stood in the doorway, her shawl tight around her shoulders, her lips drawn into a firm, straight line.

"This is my home. I don't whore in my own home. I don't prostitute myself in front of my daughter."

He was brought up short at her words and could only blink. "No ma'am. I'm not one of them." She'd only meant a clone.

"You certainly look the part." Her disdainful reaction was pure aristocrat. He suspected that was a good portion of her allure at the tavern. Tarunje had been a planet of two classes; a very small and rich upper class and the remainder dirt poor. As an aristocrat she'd be popular among men who would denigrate her for what she had once been.

He shook his head coming closer. "Yes, I'm a clone; one of 'them' as you put it, but…" He looked at her and something in his expression caught her attention. Her lips opened softly and her eyes narrowed.

"I don't come to the bar where you work." Riven swallowed. "You've never seen me without my armor."

Now she took a step back. A look of fear finally reached her eyes. Riven didn't want to see that. He looked down at the ground, at the small pile of wood.

"You only saw me once. About five years ago." He continued quietly looking at her from the edges of his eyes.

She closed her eyes and seemed to sway.

"In a prison cell. I was the third man who interrogated you."

"To interrogate is to ask questions," she corrected in a quiet voice. "What you did was rape."

He acknowledged what he could not deny. "In compliance with Order 37 and my superior officer's command of 'use all means at hand' with the implicit understanding of sexual domination, I went into that cell with four other troopers and, knowing you had no real useful information, I raped you."

Riven could see expressions cross her face. Hate, anguish, pain, disgust. He wanted to say "I'm sorry" and have everything be all right. He knew that was foolish. He said it anyway.

"I'm sorry. I regretted what I did then and I've continually regretted it since then."

"Not nearly as much as I regretted it." Her voice was quiet.

"No, not nearly as much as you. But only recently did I learn that women could become pregnant in that situation."

Larua sniffed in disbelief still not looking into his face.

"We're trained for war," he explained, "everything else is left out." He chewed his lower lip. "And I do mean everything. Cooking was a foreign concept. Reading for pleasure was totally unknown. There isn't a clone alive who can play a musical instrument."

"So why are you here? Forgiveness?" She spat the word at him and he bowed his head again.

"No." Riven's voice was quiet. "As I said, I've only just learned that you could have gotten pregnant and," he gestured to room where the little girl was probably asleep. "Apparently you did. Kix said there was no telling what a woman who'd been raped would do to her child. No telling what resources would be available to a pregnant prisoner on a war-torn planet. I came to see if there was a child. To offer what help I could offer. To take her away if that was what you wanted." He looked into her face, her eyes turned steadily away from him. "To thank you for …"

"For not aborting your bastard," she hissed.

He nodded.

"Get out of here. You can freeze in Hell." Her voice was sharp and frozen; like ice in winter.

The door slammed in his face. Inside, he could hear her crying and the child's voice asking questions or trying to comfort her.

Slowly, he bent his forehead to touch the door, tears in his eyes. Sula's voice echoed in his mind. _Liar_. She'd been right, he wanted something good to come of all this, to come from the horrible acts of Order 37.

Riven turned away from the door and loped back to his hidden camp by the stream. He'd try talking with her again tomorrow when she wasn't reacting emotionally, but for tonight he had wood to gather then a run into town.

Larua's face had been thin and her skin rough. Whatever food she made or gathered or bought with her few coins was going to the child or being sold in the market. She needed nutritious food; something with protein and fat. If she couldn't buy it for herself, he would.

There was wood by the door the next morning as well as a cold packed small steak, several wild nuna eggs packed in moss and some fresh elath tubers. She stared for a while, wanting to slam the door on his gift or throw them down the trail. Did he think to buy her forgiveness?

Larua carefully picked up the nuna eggs and took them into the house, she returned for the meat and tubers and only when those were in the house did she return for the wood. Pride was too costly for her now.

Larua didn't see him often, but when she did he was bringing wood or repairing the shed or the house. When he saw her, he would stop what he was doing and leave. He bought a few things from the store, but more and more he brought foraged food; wild nuna eggs, elath tubers, fresh fish from the river, wild berries. Because he was there, and because he was providing good food, she didn't have to work upstairs at the tavern. The few coins paid for tending the bar were sufficient. She hoarded them away, letting them gather, knowing he would leave, but for now they were her safety net.

She could have turned him in for the bounty. Larua wasn't sure why she didn't – perhaps the innate distrust of the very Empire that had ordered him to rape her or perhaps because the wood now was worth more to her than a promise of future credits.

It was getting colder and occasionally she wondered where he slept. She had seen him and he did appear to be wearing thicker clothing. Larua tried to tell herself she didn't care. And she didn't, not really. Except he was working for her and her daughter and when he left, she would return to working upstairs in the tavern.

There was a knock on the door. Larua knew it was him by the very uncertainty of that knock. She opened the door and a cold wind blasted in.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, his lean body trying to leave no space for the wind to fly into the house, his cheeks red and chapped. "It's cold. May I sleep in the shed?"

"No," she said and his eyes dropped, his lips twisted in pain and something like regret. "Come inside here to get warm first." She stepped back and he stepped slowly into her house with a questioning frown. Another step and he turned to shut the door. She saw the pack on his back and sighed softly. He'd be going soon then, perhaps tonight or in the morning, and she couldn't blame him. It would snow within the next few days. He had gathered firewood, from where she had no idea, but he had piled it between the house and the shed – an entire mountain of carefully cross-stacked firewood. He had patched the tiny cracks in the house, inside and out. The first time she noticed he'd been in the house, she had tried not to think of him violating her, touching her. She couldn't help it and ended up washing everything that was washable in a frenzy that scared her.

"Would you like something to eat?" Her lips twitched. "I think you have a good idea of what's in the pantry." He'd been good about providing food as well. There were tubers of all sorts in the half-cellar and pantry. Dried mushrooms and morels hung on cords from the ceiling, wax-covered jars held preserved sauces and jams and pickled fish. She had done the preserving, but wouldn't have been able to without the food he provided. Dried fish wrapped in waxwrap was stacked in the earth freezer he'd dug before the ground froze.

He smiled tightly and ducked his head. "A fair idea. Thank you, but I just need to get warm." He simply stood, well-balanced on both feet, his shoulders relaxing. He was lean and slender, but muscled after all the work he'd done. "I'll go to the shed when you want me to go."

Larua shrugged. "I'm a woman who is paid to warm someone's bed." He winced and his shoulders tightened but she continued speaking. "You've paid me in advance with a warm house, plenty of firewood, good food. Please, have a seat. Next to the fire is nice." She gestured at a chair at the table and he sat down. He didn't say anything for several long moments as he held his hands out to the flames then he sighed.

"I've tried paying you back for what I stole from you." He held up his hand. "I know I can't ever pay it back. I stole everything from you – your position, your confidence, your choices." He looked into her eyes. "I've taken away your family as well, haven't I? Is there anything that wasn't taken from you?"

Slowly she shook her head then she gave him a small nod. "My life. I kept that when so many didn't."

"I'd like to talk some more. Try to apologize a little better."

She shook her head, her lips tight. "There are some things that simply can't be…"

"I realize that. Maybe it's not an apology or forgiveness. Maybe it's just trying to understand. I'm asking for a chance to explain what came afterwards. I'm asking for a chance simply to help you with my child."

"You were one of five men that day. There were three more the next day." She frowned, it had been so long ago but she remembered every detail. "A couple each day I was there. Your chance of being her father is fairly small."

"Not if I simply consider her my daughter. Not if I tell myself that she _is_ my daughter. Not if I treat her as my child, not if I love her as my child." He looked at her with desperate eyes. "And I can do that if you let me." He looked at the table's surface, running his finger along the grain of the wood. "There are some things I can do to protect you and her. I have some money; you can have that. Whether I stay or go, you can have the money so don't let that influence you. I can work here on your house, fixing it as necessary. I can watch her in the evening while you go to work. I can do manual labor. I can make it possible for you not to work upstairs at the tavern." He shook his head. "I can't register for anything on this planet. If I'm discovered by Imperial stormtroopers I will have to run. If that happens you will tell them I forced you and threatened your child."

She turned her head to the small child curled in the bed in the next room. "So much was taken from me; from all of us." Her face relaxed into a smile. "You took everything but my life. From that came Charyna." Slowly she looked at his sad eyes. "She has paid your debt."

"I would like to ask you a favor. It's something I can't do."

"What?" The tenderness from speaking of her child was quickly replaced by wariness.

"Before I deserted from the Imperial Army, I was involved in the interrogations of three women."

Her eyebrows rose and she tugged the shawl around her a little tighter.

"One of the women must have been… terminated after interrogation. I've seen her marker in one of the cemeteries. I also found the last one in a cemetery but she didn't die until ten months after she was brought in."

Larua nodded thoughtfully. "And you want to find out if there's another child."

Riven nodded softly. "If I chose responsibility for your child, then I must act responsibly for this other child if he or she exists." He shook his head and smoothed back his hair with a calloused hand. "They wouldn't tell me anything the one time I was at the cemetery but I'm a stranger; a dangerous stranger to their way of thinking. I didn't try too hard to find out. I didn't want to scare anyone."

"Would you expect me to care for this extra child?" Her voice was soft but Riven winced.

"No, I'd bear full responsibility."

"How? You've already started providing for me and my child; can I trust you to put us first?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I haven't thought that far ahead."

"If you stay through the winter, helping provide for us, then I will do what I can to see if there was another child."

"Thank you," he replied. "I don't deserve …"

"No, you don't," she snapped at him. "But I will seek out this other child…'

"I said I wasn't sure if there was a child."

"I'm sure," Larua replied. "If the woman was of child-bearing age and interrogated as thoroughly as I was; then she had a child."

Riven put his face in his hands and the cold weather outside seemed to blow into his heart. He sobbed softly. He felt her place something warm over his shaking shoulders, bank the flames and turn out the few lights on her way to bed.

_If Saleucami had only two season of slightly milder and slightly wetter weather, Tarunje had seasons in abundance__. Winter was cold and windy with hard crystal snow and harder freezes. In Bashru, the winds lightened, dissipated into clear days and blankets of thrice-frozen ground-ice. Spring brought warming, soft rain and its companion of constant mud. Weather turned hot and dry in the summer, with fierce winds. Once again the winds lightened, dissipated into the light misty rain of Harah. Harvest occurred in Autumn, temperatures dropping to cool. Temperatures dropped further in Karruh, lending chill to the constant rains._

_Riven stayed a year on Tarunje._

* * *

><p><strong>Winter<strong>

Riven woke early, curled in a blanket on the floor near the dying embers of the fire, his face resting on her bundled shawl. Larua was already awake and it been her quiet footsteps that had woken him. She inspected him with wide eyes, her face pale.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep. I'll stay in the shed from now on." He sat, brushing her shawl with a hand, shaking the morning wrinkles out of it. He thought about handing it to her, but decided he would be less threatening and she more comfortable if he didn't stand. He folded it twice longwise and reached up, draping it over the back of a chair.

"You'll be fine in the house of you prefer." She nodded toward where he'd spent the night on the floor. "It will be a lot warmer than outside and you don't have enough extra flesh on you to sleep outside in winter."

He nodded. It was obvious she was more afraid of winter than of him. Riven had heard stories of 'winter on Tarunje' though he hadn't believed them. He had deserted within several days of raping the women. He'd been captured and incarcerated quickly; he had no knowledge of civilian life and Tarunje was not a planet with much of a spaceport. Riven reached for his pack where he had dropped it the night before. "I have my own bowl and stuff. Do you want me to leave them in the pack or out?"

He pulled out a small cloth bundle and unwrapped a blue bowl. She stood, trembling by the chair on the other side of the fireplace then walked over to where he sat near the fire.

"That's a beautiful cerulean. I think it would go nicely on the mantle." She stayed out of what she thought was his arm's reach.

_Cerulean? It was a nice word for a beautiful color_. He smiled at the cool blue, as his fingers traced the graceful curve of the bowl. "I traded for it. We got our bowls and plates by rote and later I found out it didn't matter. I asked Kayl if he would trade his blue bowl for my brown one." Riven ran his finger along the edge. "There's a small chip on the rim and he preferred one without a chip but, for me, the color was more important. So easy; to become individual."

He handed her the bowl, watching as she took a step closer to take it from his hand. She admired it for a moment then set it on the mantle, adjusting slightly for a pleasing arrangement with the small metal box and a wooden game obviously related to dejarik.

Riven reached back into his pack. "Same with the plate, I traded Djinn my plain white plate for this." He pulled out a protective fiberwood packet and drew out a plate covered with brightly colored flowers and flipped it, showing the flowers on the bottom as well. "It was the only one decorated on both sides and just too …." He handed it to her with a small laugh. "Happy."

"It is very beautiful. I can understand why you traded for it." Her fingers traced one of the flowers. "The shelf is too narrow for a plate. Shall we keep this on the table instead of setting it in the pantry with the others?"

She was trying to make him feel less a stranger, he knew; trying to be kind in return for his help. Trying to convince herself he wasn't dangerous. He wasn't really welcome except as someone to help make sure she and her daughter survived winter.

"That would be all right." He gestured with a hand and she sat at the table, carefully setting his colorful plate in the middle of the rough wooden surface. Slowly he stood and took the chair to sit across from her. "I don't know how you'll want to split the tasks. Maybe by distance; you do things around the house and I'll go further; the stream or woods. Or you can do work inside and I'll do the outside work." He gave a short laugh. "I can't cook very well."

Larua nodded. "Those are both good ideas." He was also offering her spatial distance from his presence. He realized how uncomfortable he made her.

"Today," he continued. "I was thinking about going out to the woods, pick up some more wood. I found a nuna roost site and maybe could catch a few at dusk before another predator finds the spot. You could keep them in the shed; slaughter them one by one. Maybe by spring a few would be tamed."

"That's a good idea." She was pleased; it was indicative that he wasn't just thinking of the present, but of future survival as well. "I usually begin by milking the goat and letting out the nuna. They'll huddle if it gets too cold. Then I go down to the stream and bring back water."

Riven shook his head. "I'll get the water. Four trips."

Larua reached out her hand, "No only three…." Three was for her and Charyna, she hadn't counted him. "Yes, four at least, perhaps five. People don't drink enough in winter so I make lots of soup." No need to tell him that soup stretched one meal into three.

"I'll get the water first. You have a little time to yourself." He wore a dark shirt - the trooper's all-weather body glove - he stood, pulling a civilian sweater over it. He had the pail in hand and he closed the door behind him in a swift motion that let in very little of the windy cold.

He hadn't looked at her once he had stood and she was glad because her hands were trembling at his height and strength; at the muscles of his arms and the way his ribs and his face showed hunger. She hoped it was only hunger for food, but it brought back memories. She wondered if he'd been the one to hit her when she called him a coward. Perhaps he was the one who... Larua shook her head. He said he had regretted what he'd done. It would do her no good to dwell on memories.

Larua took the time he gave her relaxing in her chair by the fire. She closed her eyes and leaned back her head for just a moment, smiling over the luxury of time and solitude to herself.

When she woke, the kitchen filter cistern was full and Charyna was on the floor playing with her small rag doll. He was gone.

Late in the afternoon, a _ga-hwol_ wind picked up and dainty white flakes began falling from the sky. Larua herded the nuna and goat into the shed, opening a precious bale of straw and scattering it around for their survival. She told Charyna to go inside. For a short time Larua watched for him but went inside the cabin when the wind buffeted her to the ground.

Once inside the cabin, she realized how wind-proof he had made it. Last winter had been hard. Already he had made it more likely she and her daughter would survive. She hung up her threadbare coat and turned toward the fire.

Larua had survived last winter only by moving into town, by moving it with a man. None of her relatives would take her; no men of her class would set her up as a mistress or concubine. It had been a strictly economic trade; she and her daughter received food and warmth for what she provided him.

Soup would be good and she began cutting the _elath_ tubers and topatoes, adding some of the herbs drying above her. As the broth simmered she made dumplings and, with Charyna's help, rolled them and dropped them into the soup. Charyna laughed as the round dumplings puffed and floated to the surface. He still hadn't shown up so she had supper with Charyna, brushed and braided her dark hair then told her a bedtime story. It was too dark to sew but Larua sorted cloth and pinned seams to repair. Still, he was missing.

Larua frowned at herself. Should she have told him; warned him about the winds and the quick freezing? He'd been on Tarunje. He should have known.

It was pitch black outside and a warm light from the fire lit the room when there was a knock at the door. The sound was low to the floor and hard. He was kicking with his boot. She opened the door and he staggered in; gloved hands tucked in his armpits, falling against her, a man of cold clay frosted with clumps of snow. She quickly pushed the door shut and led him to the table, guiding him into a chair.

"Off with my sweater," he ordered her between chattering teeth. She pulled it off him; his shivering body, coldly stiff arms and cramped fingers making it more difficult. She pulled her shawl over his shoulders then rushed into the bedroom and returned with a blanket which she also put over his shoulders and head.

"Are you frostbit?" she asked. "Do you know the symptoms."

"No," he answered. "Yes. Just _kriffing_ cold."

Larua spooned some soup into his bowl and gently set his cold hands around its curve, inspecting his fingers for signs of frostbite then holding her hands over his on the bowl. "This should warm your hands a bit. I'll check your feet."

"They're cold," he growled and planted his feet firmly to the floor. "I'll check them after soup." At the tone of his voice, she jumped back, away from him. He looked down at the soup; he hadn't meant to scare her. "I'm just cold, Larua. Not angry or anything more. Just cold." But she busied herself with the fire, adding another branch of wood with trembling fingers.

The bowl of soup did warm his hands and when his fingers were supple enough to function properly, he lifted the bowl to his face, letting its warmth revive him. He didn't use his spoon, simply sipped from the bowl, swallowing dumplings that floated near his mouth, tapping the bottom of the bowl to shake the topato and elath cubes loose.

"This is good; is there more I might have?" He knew there was more, but it was hers to give or keep as she chose. He tried to keep his voice light.

She took his bowl and ladled in more soup from the pot by the fire. As apology, she came close to the table beside him with his filled bowl. He nodded as he reached for the bowl, taking it and gulping down the hot soup. He was no longer shivering or his teeth chattering so badly. She set his sweater on the bench by the door, brushing and pulling off clumps of re-frozen snow then came to sit at the table.

"Did you do what you set out to accomplish?" Larua hoped her voice sounded merely interested. It would be very good to have more nuna but she promised not to sound disappointed if he hadn't. Wild nuna didn't always roost in the same places and other predators may have taken them first.

"Yes." It was a simple statement but there was pride in his voice.

"How many did you obtain?" She wondered if he gotten four; four nuna would be a good catch.

"Seven," he muttered fiercely, "and I can barely wait until you roast those …" He glanced and saw Charyna asleep on the bed. "_kriffing_ things!" He glared in the general direction of the shed. "They bite!"

Larua laughed. She couldn't help it. Of course wild nuna bit; most wild things bit or scratched or yowled when they were caught. He flushed slightly, his hard face staring down and she almost regretted laughing.

"Seven is very good. I didn't expect you to bring back more than four or five at the most." Larua smiled slightly. It _was_ very good. The house was warm and he had almost doubled her small bevy of nuna. Riches more valuable to her than the jewels and clothes she'd once owned; survival more important than status.

"They why did you laugh?" He watched her suspiciously, a worried frown on his face.

She flattened her hands, palms in his direction, tilted her head and gave a shrug. "It was the way you said, 'they bite' as if you hadn't known that wild creatures would fight."

His mouth twisted and he inspected the bottom of his bowl wondering if she was speaking of nuna or herself. "I didn't," he said. "In hindsight, it's obvious, but … I didn't know."

She sat at the table across from him. "Like you didn't know about the _ga-hwol_ wind and how it would bring a quick freeze and snow?"

"I could smell snow in the air this morning and it was windy, but I thought it would warm during the day and freeze at night." He was bending, pulling the bindings of his work boots. "I was expecting snow, but not until dark. I had planned to be back earlier."

"Normally you would be right, but conditions have been right for a _ga-hwol_. In winter after several days of good, sunny weather the winds from the west sweep down off the mountains. They pass over a series of glaciers which have been surface melting in the warmer days. The winds collect the moisture to fall as snow as well as becoming super-cold from those same glaciers."

He nodded. "Several days of bright sun, near or at freezing, west wind. I'll remember." He pulled off his work boots and took them to the door, setting them under the bench. He sat and pulled off two sets of socks then the military-issue all-weather body glove socks to inspect his feet. "No frostbite." After draping his socks on the bench, he moved back to the table.

She thought about asking how long he'd been on Tarunje before. _Long enough_, her mind told her and she spoke about weather instead. "Winter begins with a _ga-hwol_, then has three or four more. There have been speculations that this will be a hard winter with up to six _ga-hwol_."

"Making my presence, tolerable." Riven tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. This had been his choice, to come here, to attempt amends.

Her lips were tight and thin. "Making your presence necessary. You have made your presence tolerable."

_Was that a compliment?_ He bent his head sideways to observe her and looked into her blue-green eyes. She dropped them as if ashamed. The question hung in the air. _What did you do last winter and the winter before?_ Riven saw her shame and let the question go. "Tell me more about the seasons. It's obvious I wasn't on Tarunje long enough."

"It's winter now. Hard, frozen, windy. There will be some good days when the sun is out and the weather just below freezing."

Riven grinned. "Three or four of those in a row and we get a very cold and dangerous _ga-hwol_."

It was the first time he said 'we' and he hadn't realized it. Larua jerked a little at the word. She calmed herself, realizing he had meant 'we' as in everyone from here to the town and for some measure beyond.

"After winter comes bashru. It will still be cold with snow and freezes. There will be some clear days. Spring brings warming rains that melt the frost and warm the soil. Summer is hot, dry and windy. Late in summer, fire hazard is called and certain regulations are put into effect. Breaking those can get you taken to prison. The penalty for breaking fire hazard is slavery. It's not called that, of course." Larua's eyes were mocking and Riven had to look away. "We _are_ a civilized world. It's called _retributive service_, but the effect is the same. Harah is not quite as hot and there are light rains, ameliorating the fire hazard. Autumn is the harvest season, temperatures are warm, nights cool." She smiled absently. "There are beautiful meteor showers. Karruh is windy with heavy rains. I consider it miserable weather; always gray and cold, but no freeze until the first _ga-hwol_ of winter."

Riven nodded. "I'll remember."

Larua had no doubt he would.

Riven's teeth chattered in the cold as he huddled by the fireplace. The embers seemed to produce no heat. It was the fifth _ga-hwol_ of the winter and he was sick and tired of the _kriffing_ planet. He missed Saleucami and his brothers, he missed sitting on the big rock in the evening or lounging in the hot pool of water. Riven missed his brothers.

Then he heard a sound, something like a whimper and a soft sobbing. He listened, determining its origin as the bedroom. Off limits to him, she'd made that clear enough. Not as if he'd chase her there. In the house he tried to minimize his presence; sitting instead of standing, moving slower than usual. She was still scared of him and he mourned what he and his brothers had stolen from her.

But the sobbing didn't stop. Riven frowned, listening harder. He heard her voice talking low trying to comfort the child, but Charyna kept sobbing.

"_Fierfik_," he muttered as he rose from his bedroll and lifted it in his hands. He strode to the door separating them and pushed it open. Riven could see them, shadowed and orange in the glow of the flames. Charyna was crying, shivering, her face was pale and streaked with tears. Even Larua was pale, the blood moving from extremities to core in an effort to stay alive. Riven dumped his bedroll on them, straightening it to cover them completely then turned.

He was at the front door, seated on the bench, pulling on his boots.

"Where are you going? What are you doing?" There was the edge of panic in her voice.

"Getting the goat," he replied as he pulled on a long overcoat she'd found used at a good price in the market after the first _ga-hwol_. It was a dead man's coat which carried bad luck. "It's worse luck to freeze she told him," pleased with the purchase.

"The goat is an animal…," she began.

"Ten degrees warmer and no dirtier than any of us," he retorted as he pulled the door shut.

In a short time he dropped the amazed goat at the foot of the bed then crawled in fully dressed except for his boots and an outer sweater he'd left by the bench. The large overcoat was the last thing on the pile. Charyna was between them, under the mountain of clothing. While he'd gotten the goat, Larua had pooled the remainder of all the clothes in the house on the bed.

The goat wasn't stupid and after a few moments of shifting ended up between Riven and Larua at Charyna's tripled-stocking feet. Charyna giggled and fell asleep curled in her mother's arms.

When Riven woke, Charyna was curled up at his side, under his arm, her soft cheek against his bicep. Riven didn't move. He licked his lips softly and gently touched her head with his fingers, stroking her dark curls. She murmured in her sleep and snuggled up tighter against him, pressing her cheek against his face.

**Bashru**

After winter, bashru was a relief. It was still cold and frozen. Most nights Larua asked if perhaps the goat might come in and those nights he crawled into bed with them all. Would he have been welcome without the goat? He didn't know and didn't ask.

Charyna giggled and played with him now; unmindful of her mother's reticence with him. He had learned to milk the goat and the goat had proven surprisingly house-trainable. Larua was always awake when he went out to get water from the stream, it seemed she enjoyed the few moments between his departure and the waking of her daughter. 'Time for myself', she had said, 'something I haven't had for a long time'.

Riven woke every morning hard and wanting. Larua knew that, though he tried to keep from her eyes. He wondered if she knew because she was a woman and women seemed to know everything about men. When he woke, she was always awake, staring at him with a hard expression, as though she were afraid yet determined not to show it. In the early mornings when it was cold and he wished he could stay in the warm mountain of clothing, goat, child and mother, her accusing eyes chased him away.

**Spring**

Riven knew it was spring when she laughed.

He'd just come from the stream with a fifth bucket of water and Charyna was racing the goat to the shed; the goat for a breakfast of grain and Charyna to check for eggs. The two runners had scattered the nuna with squawking and cubbles of alarm and Larua had laughed.

_"What animal would lay eggs in the middle of winter?" he had asked her the first time she made fresh eggs for breakfast; sometime between the first and second ga-hwol._

_"Nuna have never been considered particularly bright."_

_"I'm glad for that," he had replied with a grin and she had given a shy, soft smile at his words. Almost as if they were friends. Almost as if she wasn't terrified of him. Almost as though they were two normal people._

Now she was coming out with a basket of scraps for the creatures to mix with their grain and she had laughed. Riven smiled and dropped his head to inspect the ground at his feet for a moment. When he looked up again, she was looking at him. She wasn't laughing or even smiling, but here was no wary hardness in her face.

"If you will stay with Charyna for today and tonight, I will go to town and return tomorrow."

"Will you be working?" He asked. "I don't think we need anything, so you don't have to work."

"A little. Downstairs only." She looked up into his eyes and her lips moved as though she were going to say something else. But she only licked her lips and turned away. "I will go to the cemetery and ask about Answara di Gari. People talk in late bashru and early spring. In winter, we are too busy surviving, but in bashru the worst is over and as the weather becomes milder, it's a good time to visit and talk, sharing a hot drink and remembering people who did not survive. The bar is a good place to simply listen."

He nodded. "It's a good idea. Will you need money?"

"Not yet," she told him. "Not yet."

And he knew it would be needed. He took out all he had and set it in the small metal box on the mantle next to his cerulean bowl and the wooden game. She saw him, but said nothing. They were like ghosts to each other, their major interactions with Charyna and social niceties of strangers living together.

"Not yet."

Larua had told him that several times as she had made plans to go into town and find out more about Answara de Gari. She'd gone to the cemetery first, taking a small packet of dried herbs to share tea with the groundskeeper. She wore her shawl and a coat worn to thinness over two sets of clothing, long pants and shirt under a slightly too large dress. He knew the dress had once fit her perfectly, though how he knew he couldn't say.

While she was gone Riven laid out the outlines of a garden in the wet, thawing ground. He sharpened and oiled the old tools in the shed, milked the goat tolerably well, checked the wood pile with satisfaction and had a clean child and the luxury of hot water waiting for her when she returned.

Answara de Gari, she told him, had died of childbirth fever and malnutrition. The groundskeeper didn't know about any child, but he had checked the records for burials of small children and found two for a child of that young age.

**Summer**

"Not yet."

Larua had been to the Tarunje Central Records Department. There she found that Answara had had a son, healthy, no father recorded. There'd been a _pro bono_ medical address as well as a contact name which Larua had carefully written down – even unofficial duplicates cost money that didn't need to be spent.

Riven had cleaned out the shed; setting up compost, restacking barrel-shaped bales of straw and bags of grain, repairing some of the old equipment, re-rolling wire to sell.

Charyna had staked out a small garden plot for herself. "Flowers', she'd said, her nose smudged with dirt. "I'm going to grow sunny and orange flowers." It was the wrong season, but Riven decided it could never hurt to plant flowers. He went to the stream to bring water for her little seeds.

Larua came home to find Charyna eating small sugar-coated dumplings filled with dried fruits from his double-sided flowered plate.

"It's called _tashki_." He was so obviously proud of cooking the sticky sweet doughballs as he offered her some.

**Harah**

"Not yet."

Larua come back to the cabin angry, her face red with held back tears. Riven had taken one look at her and enticed Charyna to go fishing in the stream. He came back after dark, carrying the sleeping child and a string of mid-side _dadro_. Larua looked cried out and took Charyna from his arms, quietly undressing her and putting her to bed while Riven cleaned and cooked the fish as she'd shown him.

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet in the silence and dim light from the fireplace. They sat across from each other at the table, he on the bench with the happily flowered plate in front of him, she on the chair with her shawl staring beyond him.

"You looked like you wanted to be alone." He said to break the silence that had engulfed her since he'd brought in the sleeping child.

Larua nodded. "I saw her; my mother, while I was in town. We had an argument. The same one as usual."

"I don't know what that is," Riven shook his head. Larua didn't know if she wanted to cry or laugh at his innocence.

"I can return to my family," she began, her finger running along the smooth surface of the table. He'd done that too, she realized, sometime in deep winter. "I can return to my prior position and station in life. They will wipe out my past, find me a well-bred husband in the Hierarchy and, so long as I do not make a spectacle of myself, everything will be as it was the day before I was taken in for interrogation."

Riven nodded. A look of sorrow quickly crossed his face. She had paused, her eyes focused beyond him. He leaned forward and made a small gesture with his hand. "Except?"

"They ask too high a price," she whispered. "Charyna." Her eyes glittered angrily. "She says the Somayne Household cannot hold high its head among the Hierarchy. That the bastard daughter, the dark-haired shame of DomSomayne, causes people to talk and my sister will struggle to find a good husband." She glared at him. "They call her clone-fathered, prison-born." Larua fell silent and Riven looked down then suddenly realized she wasn't angry at him. Her mother must have been saying this, urging her to orphan the child since she'd been born.

Riven licked his lips softly in thought. He had offered before, but hadn't renewed the offer.

"I can…," he whispered softly, "I can take her if you wish. She's my daughter and I would take her off-planet. You can return to your home." He spoke a little more firmly. "You know I love her and I would take her where others would love her, care for her, protect her." He smiled, thinking of another child on Saleucami to be loved by the extended family of his brothers and their wives. "No one will ever call her anything other than daughter, cousin or Charyna."

"No." She reached her hand out and it hovered above his for a long moment before she gently touched the back of his hand like a terrified wild creature. "You understand I do not reject your offer because of you, because you are a clone; I reject your offer because she is my daughter and I am her mother."

Oddly, that made enough of a difference that Riven gave her a little smile and turned his hand palm up, letting his thumb stroke her fingers. "The offer is there. It is an option for you to consider. I will not withdraw it."

She signed and pulled her hand back to her shawl, withdrew from him and sat back in the chair; once again, a ghost to him. Sadly, he stood and picked another log, placing it into the fire. "I'll go out and get some more wood." He said, turning toward the door.

"Please wait," she asked in a whisper and Riven, hearing her, sat back down on the bench.

"After his birth and the death of Answara, your son was taken by Answara's husband for a while. Later the child was taken from the man and turned in to the orphanage." She paused. "He had a broken arm and bruises, both old and new."

Riven stared, as she had done earlier, his eyes focused behind her. "If I ever meet this man…" He began in a low voice but Larua interrupted him.

"He is dead, but they do not know where the child is."

"I thought you said he was in the orphanage." Riven's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Several times. Each time Answara's husband claimed him. After several months or a year, someone would call and the child would be taken from him."

"Then how do we find him?" Riven looked at her with bewildered golden brown eyes. "Where would he be?" He frowned, thoughtful. "With the husband's relatives?"

"Possibly. I have some ideas. I will check them the next time I go to town." She looked at him. "This, I guess, is when working in a bar comes in handy."

**Autumn**

"Will you need money," he asked as usual. This time she paused and pursed her lips thoughtfully. She shook her head, but the words were different this time.

"Soon."

When she returned the next morning, her left eye was blackened and there were dark bruises on her arms. Riven's jaw clenched in anger but he said nothing the long day until night came again and Charyna went to sleep, satisfied with the made-up story of her mother's.

"Tell me who, Larua."

She saw the killing in his eyes and only shrugged. "A man." She turned her back to him as she stirred the milk to make cheese. "He said he was earning good money at the barracks. That he wanted to see me upstairs." She turned to face Riven. "I told him 'no'."

"Larua, that kind of man doesn't take no..." He paused, the remainder of her words cutting through his anger. "Earning money at the barracks? Doing what?"

She shrugged. "I didn't ask."

Riven leaned back, his face pale. "No." It was a quietly spoken word, mostly to himself. He looked into her eyes then turned to get his long coat. "I'll go into town."

He went into town that evening, moving quickly. He listened at bars and even chanced talking with two drunken stormtroopers on the outskirts of the barracks. Riven had some time, but his foray into town confirmed he would have to leave Tarunje.

The next evening Riven trudged back to the small house on the edge of the woods with slow, unhappy footsteps. It was out near the woods, few people came this way and he had avoided them all. The house was near a stream that ran through large round boulders where good size _dadro, _a delicious fish, could be caught. Nuna were a prevalent species in the woods; providing eggs and meat. There were a few large predators in the woods, nothing dangerous to a fully grown man; though he'd made sure to always be with Charyna or Larua when they went into the woods. She had started to teach him to make cheese. It was a snug, warm, comforting home with Charyna and the pet goat which now spent most nights in the house. Even though he and Larua were nearly like ghosts to each other, he liked living there.

He paused where the path cut toward her house. From where he stood, he could see a bevy of nuna chasing insects in the twilight, the goat was happily grazing on some grass, and Larua stood on the step of the door. She saw him then turned into the house. She never waved; that would be too welcoming, but she watched for him in the evenings and would go back into the house to finish preparing the food so it was hot and ready by the time he got there. Charyna would see him as he moved further up the trail and come running to him to be picked up and twirled. His little wild goat-girl.

Once again, they waited until Charyna had fallen asleep on the bed.

"I can't stay, Larua. They're enlarging the base and re-opening the other two bases in the system. They're bringing in the 36th Corps. Almost 40,000 men. I'm a deserter and they will catch me."

He finished the bowl of soup; rich with slivers of melted cheese, before he realized what he wanted to say. "If you won't let me take Charyna alone, then come with me."

"I will think on it."

**Karruh**

It was Larua's mother who tipped the balance. She came to the house on a day promising rain. She ignored Riven; she was Hierarchy after all and he was only clone, barely sentient, and far beneath her notice. She visited, bringing tea to share, and spoke with Larua as the rain started, pounding the roof of the house.

She smiled often. She brought Charyna a doll; china bisque face with green eyes and red-gold hair wearing a beautiful emerald colored gown.

"Look, mama. It's you." Charyna had smiled and taken the beautiful doll to introduce to her rag doll.

Larua's mother invited Charyna to visit grandmamma. Larua pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

She scared Riven more than droids ever had.

Together they went to Somayne House to get the little girl. Larua was in a good mood; when she'd come back to the quiet little house, lonely by Riven's standards, the previous night she'd told him she'd found the boy.

"Bring the money," she said. "He is not in good circumstances and we shall need money to entice his owner to let him go."

Riven winced at the word 'owner'. The Kaminoans had considered the clones 'things', a commodity to be sold. For a long time Riven had himself convinced that it was his skills they sold. He'd never thought a child could be a 'thing'.

The day went downhill from there. It started with grey weather and cold rain. When they reached where the boy was located; an old woman, surrounded by pale, thin children of different ages, told them she would, of course, take money. Her price was more than they had. Riven looked for his son among the children, as much his son as Charyna, and met a pair of amber-brown eyes. The child was the only boy of the proper age and answered to the name of Clonson. Clone's son. He came when the old woman called him and looked at them; eyes that had seen too much pain. He was thin and shorter than Charyna, with a slightly crooked arm. Riven's lips tightened to keep himself from crying.

Together, he and Larua morosely went from the large run-down house to the regal Somayne House.

Riven was shaking his head. "Five thousand, Larua, I don't have five thousand." He glanced at her wistfully. "I don't suppose…"

"No. It was all spent two winters ago." Her face was grim and tight also. He wondered when his search had become her search as well.

They reached the house and Larua took him around an alleyway and knocked at a back door. A kitchen servant opened it and stood with her mouth gaping open and then closing with no words.

"I'm here for Charyna, Bekt." Larua smiled softly. "Please bring her out. I want to get home before dark."

"She's…" Bekt continued to gape, words coming out of her mouth at random. "Your mother. Saraku. Got them."

"What are you talking about, Bekt? Got who? And where is Charyna?"

Riven got a distinctly queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Your mother," Bekt seemed to fix on that one person. "Your mother's waiting to talk with you."

Larua screeched in unholy anger and Riven stood, his fists clenched.

But he couldn't hit an old woman sitting regally in a brocade chair.

"I only did what was best for you, Larumedhe." She looked at Larua with narrowed eyes and lips pursed in disapproval. "What was best for DomSomayne. The bastard-shame is gone." For once, she glanced up and her eyes met Riven's eyes. "You may even keep your clone lover, but do not breed with him."

"Where is she," screamed Larua but her mother merely gestured to one of the servants.

"Take them to the Blue Chamber." She looked at Larua. "As you recall, your grandpapa put locks on the Blue Chamber."

Larua struggled and it took more servants to handle her than it did Riven. But he realized they thought him less than human; they thought him soulless and lacking both intelligence and initiative. They thought his lack of anything to say to Larua's mother was lack of wit.

When he saw the locks, he nearly laughed. They were neither magnetic nor electronic; but simple slide bolts and, even easier, the hinges were on the other side of the door. It was more a psychological barrier than a prison. Even the door wasn't too thick to break down. He'd been ready to fight if the locks had been too difficult to escape from. Hindered by Larua's fighting and lulled into complacency, he could have taken them. He didn't bother.

It was a woman's bedroom and Larua fell sobbing on the bed. She cried herself to gulping hiccups and then sleep. Riven inspected the door and the room. He found a dull bladed instrument with a filigreed handle to remove the hinge pins. Then he let Larua sleep until he was ready for them to leave in the early hours of morning.

Larua wanted to confront her mother, to shriek and wake everyone in the house. Riven shook his head. "I would have a problem with that many people. But it's okay. I know where Charyna is, Larua. I can find her and I will bring her back to you." She listened, for once looking at him with keen eyes and so alive he wondered how he'd ever thought of her as a ghost. "But once I do this, they will know I exist. Luck and hiding won't be sufficient anymore; they'll actively search me out. And they will search out Charyna. We won't be hard to find." He added softly, "The stormtroopers will just ask your family."

"Bring me back Charyna," she whispered. "We will go with you."

He nodded. "Go home, sell what you can, keep some of the dried meat. Pack clothes, warm stuff." He pushed the money into her hands. I don't know where we'll end up. Three days we'll meet at the spaceport."

"And your son," she asked softly. Riven turned his head, his expression twisted with sorrow.

"Maybe I'll come back after you and Charyna are safe." But he knew he wouldn't be able to; knew he might not even survive. If he did, his life would be as haunted by that small boy with the crooked arm as he'd been haunted by the women he'd raped.

"Riven." It was the first time his name had touched her lips. In the year they had lived together, she hadn't called him anything, as though refusing to name him made him invisible, non-existent. "Bring back Charyna and you will never wake alone."

He stood, numb for a moment then shook his head. "I love Charyna. You know that."

She nodded, blushing in shame at trying to make his generosity a bargain.

"I will have Charyna out." Riven promised. "But do not trust anyone, even me, unless they tell you..." he paused, thinking then grinned. "They're nerfherders from Dantooine."

Riven held her hand as he turned to silently lead her out the door. She didn't move and he turned in curiosity to see her eyes regarding him; as though he was no longer a ghost to her. Perhaps she had changed her mind about going; her mother had already told her she could return to her old place in society and the DomSamayne. Then he'd find Charyna and take her back to Saleucami.

"We will get your son as well." Larua declared firmly. "We must wait for my mother to wake." She turned and went to a small stone-topped table and sat down. "Will you braid my hair? I must look…" she grinned and her expression in the mirror was not nice. "…suitable."

Riven brushed out and braided her hair. She wasn't satisfied with his first efforts and made him braid it again and again. Finally she declared it acceptable and set the braid in intricate loops around her head, setting the loops with pins. She opened various containers on the table as Riven watched as she dabbed her face with colors, powders. She had gone into a closet room of clothes and returned with a dress of vivid green. He had to help her put it on. Finally she sprayed on a scent. Riven's nose twitched. The first spray had been a good scent. The second intensified the scent beyond pleasure into cloying irritation.

"How do I look?" she turned and asked him.

"Beautiful." It was true. She looked like the china bisque doll her mother had given Charyna. Her lips were emphasized with red, her green eyes glittered like hard stones, her hair was a sculpture and Riven recognized a woman who would do what was needed. This woman was the one who'd gone to whore upstairs in the bar. Larua had merely given her a face.

"Beautiful. What else?" Her eyes were thoughtful.

"Hard." He thought for a moment. "Deadly."

"Hardly that," she gave a short little laugh.

"Deadly," he said again as he nodded. "Everyone, everything, will fight to the death when there's nothing else to lose. No one with any intelligence wants to face that. That's how you look."

She thought about that for a moment then nodded. "You are correct. There is nothing else for me to lose. You have agreed to rescue Charyna and for my own honor – what little remains – I will help you gain your son." She looked at him, her eyes hard and penetrating again. "Your job is to make sure I have my say. I don't think she'll order them to throw us out, not if I'm wearing green _laithe_." She gestured at the sweep of the gown. But you must make sure that doesn't happen."

"Tell me where we'll be. The ground, the situation." He sat and listened; once again a trooper following his commander into battle.

"You and your clone-lover would never do that." The older woman's voice was scathing in arrogant pride and for the first time in his life Riven felt something creep up his spine that made him want to run. His grip on the servant was tight, but the servant was too intimidated to struggle.

"Yes, mother," replied Larua languidly as she strolled by the sideboard laden with food. "If you thought Charyna brought you shame by her dark hair and being prison-born; my clone lover and I will destroy the very name of DomSomayne. I will go everywhere; to every party, to every gathering of the Hierarchy. "

"The door guardians would not let you in." Larua's mother raised her jeweled head. "Green _laithe_ or not."

Larua smiled slyly and turned her head toward Riven. "The door guardians will have problems with my warrior clone. And, you assume, mother, they will not be given orders to fall after a few punches are thrown. The rest of the Hierarchy will be quite delighted to see me." Larua moved smoothly, almost gliding, toward Riven. "You know how much the Hierarchy loves scandal, how they enjoy the torture of seeing status lost fingertip by fingertip from the pinnacle. They will be totally enamored of the scandal I shall create and so very amused with my clone and I."

Larua lazily laid a light, proprietary hand on Riven's arm. "Remember, mother, I have no status to lose but House DomSomayne…." Larua let the sentence die as she stood beside Riven, looking over the strength of his shoulders and the leanness of his body mentally measuring him. "Although he will look elegant in the starkness of black, I supposed at least once I shall dress him in green _laithe_."

"You wouldn't dare," her mother hissed and Riven wondered what was special about green _laithe; _it was just cloth. And was Charyna low status simply for the color of her hair?

"I am a ruined woman, mother." Larua hissed, finally showing cold rage to her mother. "There is _nothing_ I wouldn't dare."

Her hand caressed Riven's cheek. He felt her fingers, cold on his face, begin to tremble so he put his hand over hers, holding her hand to his face, warming her fingers, quieting the tremors of those delicate fingers so her mother wouldn't see her fear. The servant didn't move even though Riven only had a single hand locking his wrist behind his back.

Larua turned, the gown sweeping around her feet. "I may even visit the Hierarch himself."

"He will throw you out." Larua's mother replied archly and Larua laughed.

"Of course he will, mother. And I shall throw the most atrocious fuss you have ever seen; more so than when Lady Baynock's was caught cheating at cards." There was a pause and Larua's face became placid, as though they were drinking tea and pleasantly discussing the weather. "Tell me, mother, does Lady Baynock show herself anymore or is the family still in seclusion? Still mourning for her grandfather? How long have they been mourning the old man? He died nearly a decade ago."

Her mother was pale, gripping the arm of the chair, her knuckles white between the gems on her fingers. Her breathing was harsh and Riven suddenly realized that she was _terrified_ of what Larua was presenting.

"I shall have such delightful gossip for them," Larua continued. "Perhaps I shall tell them of your lover. Sarjah would be extremely upset, not to mention Pilyar. Perhaps papa's brother will demand a paternity test on Gils-heir; it is loss of status but not insurmountably." Larua put her fingers over his lips. "Oh dear, perhaps Tak _is_ the proper heir. He never did like you, mama. What would happen to you if he _were_ the heir? Perhaps I shall delight them with tales of Ni'lkr's aberrations." She gave a high trill of laughter. "I and my lover shall be the talk of generations. DomSomayne will become synonymous with ruin."

Riven had no idea who or what she was referring to, but it didn't matter. Larua's mother had turned even paler, with two dots of red on her cheek, sitting back heavily in the fine brocade chair. Riven had seen dead men who looked more alive than Larua's mother did at the moment. Riven had released the servant's arm but he hadn't noticed, now held hostage to Larua's words more than Riven's presence.

Larua pursed her lips in a moue of distaste. "Perhaps I shall entertain them with tales of what goes on upstairs in a tavern." Larua was standing near her mother's chair and she leaned over her mother like a predatory bird. "From personal experience." Her voice was a harsh whisper and Larua's mother actually flinched. Larua didn't seem to notice. "They will be so wonderfully scandalized."

Larua straightened from behind her mother's chair and touched the lace on one sleeve of the green dress. "Of course, I will never be truly accepted by the Hierarchy again but they will love every tale and I shall be invited to every fete. My story, my life, will live for generations. Can DomSomayne survive that?"

"What do you want?" Her mother's voice trembled, soft and lost.

"Fifty thousand Imperial credits and every jewel belonging to me. The child, the clone and I shall leave Tarunje forever." Larua stood back, now fussing with one of the buttons on the sleeve of the green dress.

"The jewels were given to Solay." Her mother's voice rallied for a moment. "And I do not know where they have taken the child."

"Then retrieve them." Larua demanded in a hard voice. "Let her know it is the cost of a wedding season undisturbed by her sister's antics. Whoever her new husband turns out to be, he will be happy to purchase her more." Larua forced herself to sit in one of the high-backed chairs at the table, forced her hands into a calm façade on the table's surface . "Do not worry about where they have taken the child. She is no longer your concern." Larua glared at her mother. "She was never your concern." Riven could see she was stiff with anxiety, stiff with the roiling emotions held inside her.

"When?"

"Now." Larua's voice was quiet steel and Riven was reminded of Captain Rex.

The older woman, startled, looked up and started to object. Whatever she saw in Larua's eyes silenced her and she gestured toward the servant. Riven touched him in the back, reminding him that he was no longer constrained. He took a breath and brushed his gloved hands over his jacket, straightening wrinkles, real and imaginary. His eyes were bright.

Larua's mother handed them money and jewels with a sour look. When they left the large mansion, Larua didn't look back. She was wiping her face in the rain and undoing her hair as they walked. Her mother had quietly asked if she would not wear the green _laithe_ dress and Larua had consented.

Together they returned to the old house and asked for Clonson. The transaction was quickly done and Clonson was handed over to Larua and Riven. The boy, no older than Charyna, simply looked at them with his old eyes, wondering, no doubt, how long they would keep him. Riven wanted to cry for his pain. Like Riven's brothers, like Riven himself in prison… hope had been beaten out of the child. But Riven knew it could be rekindled.

They parted where the path split to go to her house and back to town. She took the quiet boy, the money and most of the jewels. She tried to hand him the jewelry but he refused. She handed him a set of ear ornaments of bright red stones. "They're small, if you need them for bribery. They were purchased for 10,000 credits. Their value is less than my daughter." Larua looked at him, touching him on his hand. "Everything I have is less than the value of my daughter."

"Three days," he reminded her, taking the stones into his hand. "Pack light, pack warm, pack food, and…"

"Nerfherders from Dantooine," she finished for him.

He turned toward the old barracks and the more recent construction, then back again for an instant.

"Larua, thank you." She had her back to him, her hand holding Clonson's, and chose not to reply. "When we leave," he added. "You will never need to wake alone either."

She glanced back at him with curiosity in her eyes.

"Unless you chose," Riven added with a small smile then moved down the path towards town.

It was oddly comforting to be in armor again, though he wished it had his lightning bolt on the shoulder bell. Riven laughed as he pulled the helmet on; he'd always known he would die in armor. The blaster felt good in his hands. He pushed the body into the cold waters of the river.

Getting onto the base wasn't difficult. He hadn't thought it would be, they were enlarging and there were workers from all shifts moving in and out of the perimeter. He was in armor and he remembered to walk like a trooper instead of a scout as Waxer, Boil and Numa had trained him.

No one challenged him but he stayed away from the buildings with guards; she wouldn't be in one of those half-finished buildings where security was tight and the day's construction was tested each night. They'd take her to the infirmary and lock the door; she was simply a child.

Riven found Charyna easily enough and he was glad that no one had mistreated her when her grandmother had turned her in to the Imperial Army. He grimaced. That would have waited until she'd been shipped to Kamino; Riven had no idea why they wanted her and that, in itself was pretty frightening. He wondered how it would be possible to warn Rex and Cut.

"Hey, my little goat-girl," he called softly as he pulled off the helmet and held his arms out to her. She grabbed her rag doll, leaving the bisque princess on a chair and came to him quickly

"I want to go home, Riven. I want mama." She wasn't crying, but her eyes were swollen and it would be only a small matter to push her into tears.

"I know, Charyna. We're going to mama as soon as we get out of here." He picked her up and settled her on his hip. "But I need you to be very brave and not cry until you see mama."

She nodded woodenly.

Getting out was no harder. Riven waited until dusk then stopped a man with a leather bag of tools, telling him to empty it and set Charyna inside. He dropped one of the red ear ornaments into the man's hand. "There is another one waiting for you outside if no one inspects the bag. Complain a lot, because I am taking you into local authority for attempting to steal another man's tools and get your work permit revoked."

Riven waited while the man held the sparkling jewel up to the light; whatever he saw was sufficient because he slipped the jewel into a pocket and upended the large bag without a word.

The stormtrooper at the gate asked no questions. It was a local stealing from a local; hardly Imperial business. Riven took Charyna and dropped the second ear bob into the man's palm.

"What am I going to do about my tools?" the man asked as he slipped the second jewel into his pocket.

Riven shrugged. "Show up for work tomorrow. If they bother asking, tell them you were found innocent." The he moved swiftly down the alley. Moments later the armor was in the river to join its original owner and Riven carried a sleeping Charyna to the spaceport. He had to find a smuggler. Any smuggler.

They paid the pilot 20,000 credits and he would drop them off at his next destination. The pilot was headed to the Outer Rim and had wanted 30,000 but Riven had looked over his ship and pointed out a few modifications he could make and was willing to do for the pilot once he had access to the tools and parts.

They were hidden in a secret cargo hold for Imperial pre-departure inspection and, as the ship took off, Riven held Clonson in one arm and Charyna in the other. The darkness was a velvet cloak around them all.

"We're going to make ourselves a new home," he told them as they shivered in the small, unheated area. He felt Clonson's flinch at the word 'home'. "I am sorry, my son." He put his face down to the boy's face. "They put me in prison and after I escaped I couldn't find you for the longest time." He knew Clonson didn't believe him and he vowed to show the boy every day he was loved.

At his side, Larua was trembling. Riven let sleeping Charyna slide to his lap and he gently tugged Larua's shawl tighter around her shoulders. She shivered and he pulled her closer to him, to his body heat. He might never share her bed but they were no longer ghosts to each other.

"It was a gift," she whispered softly as tears ran down her face.

"What?" he asked with a voice as quiet as hers.

"The shawl. My mama gave it to me. She loved me once. Fiercely. Unequivocally. I learned how to love from her. What happened, Riven?" There were tears in her eyes. "What happened to her love?"

* * *

><p>Though Riven made a good living by repairing flyers and ships someone recognized him as a clonetrooper and he despaired of making a peaceful home for Larua without the interference of bounty hunters. They ran several times in as many years.<p>

The same year that Shy sent two Jedi initiates to Dantooine, Riven quietly asked Larua if she wanted to go to Saleucami and she nodded, wiping tears from his face.

When Riven came back to Saleucami, he had a woman with him, beautiful and hard. They were followed by four children – two unmistakably from Order 37 to the practiced eyes of Suu and Saria and Cass. And he had aged, looking older even than Cut with the lines of laughter and worry on his face.

When Cut brought out the small vial, replaced yearly by Cody or Jesse, Riven had held up a halting hand and looked into the hard, emerald eyes of his woman.

"We make all decisions together," he told them. "Larua, what do you say?"

For an instant her face had softened and Suu thought she'd never seen a human so beautiful.

"Please," she whispered to Cut as she reached out for Riven's hand. "Please stop this double aging. I want him as long…" she paused and swallowed hard. "I want Riven for as long as possible."

* * *

><p>As always, read and enjoy. A review would be nice.<p>

This was written simply as clone desertion story - what a clone would do after deserting. This is about three years before the destruction of the Death Star.


	7. The Quiet Desert

A brief scene of Numa from Haruu (Chapter 36 is most relevant)

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><p><strong>The Quiet Desert<strong>

CT-9278 leaned back in his bunk. _Knife_, he thought as his lips twisted into a grim line. In the common room he could hear the harsh grunts and the wet, slick noises of sex. It had seemed a shame before but now it seemed an obscenity.

She'd been a beautiful Twi'lek woman; slender and lean with hidden muscle, with dancing brown eyes that matched his own and lips made for kissing.

Though he hadn't figured that out until earlier that evening.

CT-9278 had been watching her for several days as he stood guard at the base entrance. There were always civilians wanting to get in for some reason or another. Sometimes they wanted to present a petition for some wrong or another, sometimes it was simply to scavenge through the trash behind the mess. Before they'd set up the electronic perimeter, it had unsually been to plant some explosive device or another but now the trooper presence at the gate was simply symbolic of Imperial might.

He had first noticed her the night they brought in the paid women to service the troopers. Mostly it was the newer clones and the born-men that used the service of those women and he'd had the thought that she wouldn't walk so proudly after a night of rough use.

She had simply watched the women going into the gate, their hands stamped for entry and later payment, then gave a shake of her head. She had moved toward him, walking quietly and CT 9278 felt a frisson of caution prickle his backbone. He adjusted his grip on the blaster for close combat. She walked dangerously.

Her reaction to his caution had been a delighted smile. She moved closer though slightly slower. "You're one of the first ones, aren't you?" She glanced to the line of women being signed in. "You volunteered here because you don't …" Her head tilted and her lekku moved in what he associated with a female-Twi'lek-with-children's approval. "They're not to your liking."

CT-9278 didn't have to answer her. To someone in the hierarchy of the Imperial Army she was nothing beyond a civilian on a subjugated world.

Still, she interested him; mostly because she was interested in him. It was rare that a civilian even raised a face to look into the intimidating visage of a stormtrooper; even more unusual that one spoke to him rather than muttered curses.

She looked directly at him, as if he wasn't wearing a helmet.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"You find them distasteful because they are as much slave as you are." She reached her hand to softly touch his arm but let it drop as he stiffened. Her smile was sadly sweet and, _di-kut_ that he was, didn't recognize it was for him. She turned and began walking away in that hunter's stalk but glanced back at him.

Her lekku moved in a way CT-9278 associated with something he'd seen only once; a young Twi'lek couple had been walking hand in hand, their eyes only for each other and their lekku moving in that same wavelike pattern.

It was a curiosity, to be sure, but he'd keep his eyes open for her.

Once he began looking for her, she seemed to be there every day. She'd smile at him and, at first, CT-9278 though she was simply smiling at every trooper, hoping for some ration bars. Then he noticed she didn't smile at the others on guard, she only made eye contact with him, only smiled at him.

Several days later CT-9278 had been running the perimeter of the base. He'd been running in the early morning with his squad in the truncated bodysuit common on hot-clime worlds when he'd seen a figure on top of a nearby hill come loping down on an intersecting path then running parallel. It was her and she paced them on the other side of the electric barrier as they did a circuit of the base – as much security as physical training. When they stopped, stretching their warmed muscles, she did the same then walked with them as they cooled down – a relative term in Ryloth's gathering heat of day. She smiled at him, her face shiny with sweat and her lekku moving in that oscillating pattern, before loping away, back toward the center of town.

ST-6996 had stared at him. "It seems you've made a conquest, CT-9278."

"Hardly," he had replied with a shrug though pleased at the possibility. "Not as if we go out to town or she's one of the women entertainers."

"Still," ST-6996 had continued, "I've been on Ryloth long enough to know what that lek-speak said."

Another clone in the squad nodded his agreement. "She's a pretty one."

ST-962, a born man, leered. "Maybe she'll show up one day as an entertainer, eh 9278? Maybe then you won't be too stiff-necked and join us for a bit of fun for once."

CT-9278 nodded in some agreement but silently swore he'd kill them all before he let them touch her in the way they touched the other women.

It had been on an evening when they brought the paid women into the barracks common room. There were other guards on duty and CT-9278 decided to take an evening run rather than stay and watch the 'fun', as ST-962 called it.

She was waiting, sitting on a robe with her arms around her knees.

He paused, slowed and stopped, simply staring at her across the electronic boundary.

"I'm Numa."

He gave her an unpracticed smile. It was a beautiful name and he wanted to tell her that. Pragmatism spoke instead. "What are you doing here?"

One eyebrow tilted up. "Waiting for you. I saw you weren't guarding when the women went in and I thought…" She gestured to the running path, made hard by the pounding of countless troopers.

CT-9278 sat on a nearby rounded stone.

"What shall I call you?" Her lekku curled in anticipation.

"CT-9278," he replied absently as he observed her; he couldn't help but notice how attractive she was, couldn't help but get hard contemplating how his hand could slide down her back caressing her lekku. Couldn't help but think of how her breasts would feel pressed against his chest. He closed his eyes and, leaning his head back, took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes and looked at her again, he saw she was staring at the ruddy sand, tracing patterns with a finger.

"I was hoping," Numa said softly, "that you would trust me with your name."

"CT-9," he began but her head shake stopped him.

"Your name," she repeated. "The one you had before the Empire."

He paused and swallowed. He hadn't heard or spoken his name since Order 66; since they'd given him new armor and new orders.

"Knife," he said as he reflexively glanced around. "I was always lead man for my original squad, the first one in, the one to open up the tinnies and break their formations."

"Knife," she murmured with half-closed eyes.

He made a noise in his throat at the sound of her voicing his name.

"It's a good name," she said as if she hadn't notice the small noise. She stood silently and moved to the very edge of the electronic barrier, her hand palm up in offering.

He put his hand through. He'd get a reprimand later for breaking the barrier, his chip would tell them who'd done it, but it would fry her. He'd just tell them he tripped on his run, thinking of a beautiful woman. They'd believe that.

Numa smiled as she touched his hand, ran her fingers through it, curling them around his fingers. He tightened his fingers around hers. She reached and set one of her lek against his arm; it was cool as it curled around his wrist. Knife released her fingers to gently roll her lek between his fingers. He knew it was an intimacy she offered him.

He took a step closer, one foot still in the boundary of the base, most of his body outside the electronic fence. He'd tell them he tripped and had lain a while without moving, tired from the run.

Her fingers slide up his chest to his face, tracing an old scar and the curve of his lips. She shifted slightly closer, bringing her face to his, breathing on his closed lips then touching them with the tip of her tongue.

Knife moaned softly, suddenly understanding why he distained the paid woman. His hand caressed down her back, stroking her lek at the same time.

She drew back, her fingers continuing to stroke his face. There was a solemn look on her face and her lips parted as if to say something.

But Knife knew there was nothing she could say. He took her hand in his and set the tip of her lek against her fingers before kissing both.

"Don't ever come back, Numa." He said as he stepped back behind the electronic wall separating the Imperial Army from Ryloth, afraid she might try to see him as one of the paid women, suddenly simply afraid of the future.

Something had changed and he would never be the same.

It took him only hours to decide to desert.

* * *

><p>There was a full moon in the sky, it shone down on Ryloth, turning the red boulders silver and making the desert sand reflect an ocean of light.<p>

Moonlight was usually peaceful. Even when he'd been a trooper, Boil remembered that moonlit nights had usually been peaceful; the hard battles – by planning, of course – had always been on moonless nights or in the dark as much as possible. Boil remembered their arrival on Saleucami and freedom had been late in the day when the moon had risen before sunset, a fat orb chasing the sun. That night its golden rays had shone like a pathway and he'd taken his first run since Order 66 had made him a sergeant of the prison.

The first night it had been him, Waxer and Numa, a family back together. It was as if the years of their separation didn't exist. Then Shaeeah came to spend the time with Numa as the scouts taught their daughter what they knew and Jek joined in. Over the days other troopers came to their camp, interested in a scout's special skills, interested in learning more than they already knew, interested in seeing how a 'family' worked. At first Boil had been jealous of them, of anything that took his family away from him, but as he watched the interactions on Saleucami he saw other families develop and that delighted him. It seemed so in opposition to his time at prison where his job had been to destroy the connections between his brothers.

Boil quickly regained his scout's quiet stalk. Waxer and Numa sneaking up and attacking him, wrestling him to the ground, had been incentive for that. Numa had learned an amazing amount. Her wrestling him to the ground had been a game on his part then though now he had to fight in earnest to consistently beat her. The nights had been bright with silver moonlight and the fellowship of brothers. The days were bright with tracking games and sparring.

He bowed his head, hooded by the cloak of a desert wanderer, a disguise of sorts. He'd told Numa they should leave Ryloth, Imperial presence was increasing and Free was coming in for a final delivery. If they missed Free, they'd have to depend on someone who might find it more cost effective to simply turn him in and sell Numa to some criminal hutt lord.

Numa sat on one of the boulders, Boil stood behind her, draped in the robes of a desert dweller, staying in the shadows.

"You should have seen him, Boil, when I called him by his name." There were tears in Numa's eyes. "He stood taller, prouder."

"It wakes them up, Numa." He had come up behind her, at the beginning of night, using the boulders for cover, making sounds for her alone to hear.

"But what does it wake them up to? I give them something; I can see it in all of them; in how they react. Sometimes it only takes a smile, or a touch." She stood, looking down on Nabat. Only a few lights twinkled in windows; early risers or late sleepers. Her cousins still lived there, though she hadn't seen them since the day she'd been sold to the slavers nearly a decade past.

"Most of them," she spoke fiercely, "would desert within a few days if they had hope. A few desert without hope." Her voice hushed to a choked whisper.

Boil sighed, putting his arms around her shoulders, wrapping her in the robe and pulling her against his chest. She leaned back against him and the tears in her eyes sparkled like jewels.

He rubbed his cheek against one lek. "You let them look up and see the sky, my love. Before you, they only look in one direction. You show them a sky exists; a dimension they'd never thought of before. Perhaps all that most of them can do is see it, admire it. Only some of them learn to fly."

"And the Empire shoots them down." Her words were bitterly spoken and Boil couldn't refute the cold body lying on the stony sand a quarter klick in the distance. A man she had laughed with and softly kissed; one of the original clone troopers, one of his brothers; one of his far-flung extended family who had died before he could be greeted with a brother's clasp around the forearm and words of 'Come home with us, brother'.

Numa had gone down after the troopers had stripped his armor and left him there. She traced the scar that roamed down the cold skin of his face and the curl of his lips. One eye was gone. She knew that had been sent back to Kamino for identification. She had kissed his cheek but left his body there; they'd be watching and waiting for traitors. She wished she could bury him. She wished she could keep him safe from the gutkurr.

She bowed her head as Boil breathed in and began the words, she repeated them in counterpart to his voice.

_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuu. Waxer._

Waxer was always first, as if by invoking Waxer, he would greet his dead brothers, welcoming them into the family.

_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuu. Crux._

Crux was next, their first brother to die at home, the first brother to die as a civilian instead of a trooper.

_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuu. Kayl, Dyshaea, Djinn, Saoha._

Those who had died with Waxer, the first casulties in the base.

_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuu. Knife._

Then the new man, a brother the others had never met.

"How frightening it must be, Boil, to go to an afterlife not knowing what to expect." Numa said softly as she stood.

There'd been no spiritual beliefs from Kamino and Boil hadn't adopted the beliefs of any world or culture since, but in the deepest portion of his heart he agreed with her. "Waxer will greet him," he whispered to her. "Waxer will take him home."

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><p>Read, enjoy, review….<p>

I'm currently in DC, my hotel hasn't had electricity since Friday evening (it's Monday afternoon), so I'm at Starbuck's charging up all my electronics for a few more days of no power. Wish I could have brought the A/C.

Anyway, here's a chapter for your enjoyment...


	8. Eggs are Fragile Things - I

Eggs are Fragile Things

I

He was like an egg; golden on the inside with a hard white shell. Sometimes Shy liked that description, sometimes it felt comfortable. His captain had let him watch some nuna chicks hatch and he'd seen how closely the chick slept in its shell home until it hatched. Sometimes he felt that way, as if the hard white shell of armor was his only home, his only protection until he was ready.

* * *

><p>Panting, gasping hard for a breath, Checkout ran. He didn't run for his life, he knew that was impossible. He was running for their lives, running so they wouldn't be able to interrogate him. He and Backup were surrounded in the upper level decks and the blast he'd taken to his shoulder was beginning to tell. He wouldn't make it much further without time, help or stims; none of which were available despite Backup's flow of reassuring words.<p>

"We can make, Check, just a little further to the stairs."

_They have radio links, they'll be on the stairs waiting for us. _But he had no breath left to say it. Backup moved closer, sliding one strong arm around his waist, and took Checkout's good arm over his shoulder avoiding the burnt skin of Checkout's back.

"It'll be ok, vod," he murmured as if he had a plan. "It will be ok."

Checkout moved with his brother, letting Backup carrying most of his weight. He gestured to the entry ramp of the hangar deck and Backup moved in that direction with a glance behind them.

"We've lost them," he said.

"Only for the moment," Checkout breathed out a hard breath as he looked over the edge of the hangar deck, located on the 87th level of the building. A fall like that would kill him, would kill them both. He nodded and took a deep breath. The stormtroopers were coming and this was their only escape.

Backup put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "They'll take us back, Checkout," he said in a quiet voice, "we'll be troopers again."

"You're delusional, Backup." Checkout's eyes widened as he suddenly realized that jumping would be easier than convincing Backup and he tightened his lips in consternation. Once they'd left Saleucami, they'd had no more argument but now he realized it was because he and Backup hadn't _talked_ about Saleucami. In all the years they'd been gone, the final issue of cooking had never been resolved. He suddenly remembered that every time Backup did cook these days he said 'as a favor for you Check, as a favor for you'.

"They will if we tell them about the others." Backup didn't look over the edge. He crossed his arms as he observed the other man. "They take care of your shoulder and we'll be pilots again."

Checkout froze then turned to his brother. "Tell me that was just a sick, twisted idea of a bad joke."

Backup shook his head. "They aren't important, Checkout. They never were. You're important, I'm important and we can be again what we were. Troopers. Pilots."

"They took us out of prison, Backup. Or have you forgotten?" The pain inside Checkout was harder than the pain of the blaster wound. "We were in prison because we looked at each other and decided not to land that ship on peaceful petitioners."

Backup twisted around, his back to his brother only partially checking for the stormtroopers. "And what did that get anyone?" His voice was a harsh snarl. "They still died and we were permanently relieved of duty. Insubordination, Refusal to carry out a direct and lawful order."

Checkout stared at his brother with pity and shook his head. "It may have been lawful, but it was wrong! Cut and Suu and the others, they took us in when we had nothing. They tried to give us skills to survive…"

A plasma blast streamed past them; the stormtroopers had arrived.

Checkout turned toward the edge. "I'm going, my brother," he said softly then took a step over the edge as another blast, this one from a stasis ray, streamed by missing him only because he was no longer standing on the deck.

"No!" Backup grabbed Checkout's arm as he turned and was nearly jerked over the side and fell to the surface of the platform with Check's weight in his hand. Something broke and Backup thought it might be a rib or two.

"Let me go, my brother," Checkout's voice was hardly above a whisper but he was looking at Backup's face and smiling; calm and peaceful, like one of the Jedi generals they'd once served under. Like it was a beautiful day and they had no duties.

Backup could feel the hard hands of troopers on him, grabbing his legs, his body, his shoulders; their hard armor bruising his skin, cracking his ribs even further. They'd grab his arms next then his wrists and someone would reach down and grip his brother hard by the wrists. They would haul him up and take him … kriff, not to prison again. Not to interrogation. Not to torture. Not to…

A white-gauntleted hand reached, fingers brushing against Checkout's wrist; the next one would…

Backup let go, his fingertips brushing his brother's as their palms slid apart, looking down into his brother's amber eyes. For as long as possible Checkout looked up, smiling, calm and peaceful. He was graceful. He didn't scream or flail his arms uselessly trying to fly. Backup didn't turn his eyes from the inevitable; it would be dishonoring his brother. Though his tears had already started falling; perhaps they catch up to Checkout and some part of him would be with his brother.

Checkout grinned and he didn't look down.

And he cracked like an egg when he hit.

Backup didn't say anything, simply ignoring them anytime they asked him a question. When they threw him into the cell, he didn't move from where he had landed.

They would figure out soon enough, he thought. They'd come in with their drugs and their fists. If those didn't work they'd move on to more persuasive means, asking about Cody and the other men escaped from prison. Backup was glad he didn't know details but he hoped that Cut and Suu had moved on; that Cody and Rex had come and moved everyone somewhere else – somewhere he didn't know – because as much as he didn't care about them, Checkout had.

* * *

><p><em>Let me find you, let me find you, let me find you, let me find you.<em>

Sometimes at night-cycle, after polishing his armor before falling asleep, Shy repeated it like a mantra in his mind, letting it run around his brain – what they'd left of it – like a nuna in a pen.

_Let me find you, let me find you, let me find you, let me find you._

Captain Rex's wife had said that the Force was everywhere, like currents of air. And if it was everywhere, then maybe it could take his message to any Jedi they searched for.

_Let me find you, let me find you, let me find you, let me find you._

During duty, during the day, Shy didn't think much. He simply let the events flow over him as he followed his orders. At first they thought he was one of the Spaarti clone – too dumb to duck and Shy shrugged. For all he knew, he might be; but he didn't care what they thought, they were only droids of another sort.

Shy knew his nightly thoughts were working when he found another Jedi, a youngling Twi'lek, as blue and beautiful as the sky, trembling as she held herself against the ceiling of a cargo deck. Shy wondered how long she'd been in that position, what Jedi trick she played on the others. He volunteered to stay when the flesh-droids accompanying him, finished with searching the cargo hold, went on to assist the rest of the squad as they searched the circulation vents of the ship. Holstering his blaster, he was about to lift his helmet to whisper those encouraging words of 'Dantooine, Gwydr' when she fell – quite literally – fell unconsciously into his arms from the ceiling.

Shy was glad it was a big ship and would take a long time for the storm-droids to search. Not only was she exhausted from her effort, the muscles of her arms cramping and twisting as he watched, but her body was starving thin and she needed water. After setting his canteen near her body and using his helmet to pull up ship's invoices and check through the cargo manifest of the ship, he pulled a toolbar and unceremoniously opened a crate, pulling out two containers then moved to the cargo box where he'd hidden her.

She was awake and Shy moved slowly as he watched her dark eyes wide with fear; her exhausted body tensing to some action.

"It's for you," he reached out a hand to – she flinched – gently push the white, plasteel canteen closer toward her. "Same with the rations," he held up two packets in his hand. "ST Four; one of the better field rations for humanoids."

"You stole them," she accused and Shy sat back on his heels in surprised shock.

"I did?" He frowned as he looked at the labels of the two packs, his hand coming up to his forehead. He glanced at her form, still and tense as a statue, as he thought it through. "I didn't steal the water," he gestured again to his canteen as he still stared at the labels with a frown. "I guess I did steal them; sort of. But only from me. This is either a smuggler's ship or a rebel vessel and all goods will be confiscated. Goods of a high value are taken over by the quartermaster; foodstuffs are also taken by the quartermaster but distributed to us troopers through the mess after cooking." He looked into her dark eyes and tilted his head. "If it makes you feel better, I will give up a meal or two to account for my theft so you can eat."

It was her turn to be surprised. After a moment of consideration, she reached for the ST Four and set the foil packets next to her. "You don't have to give up a meal, but the offer is appreciated."

Shy shrugged. "The food isn't that good. Not like fresh eggs or _tashki_ right from the oven."

That was important, but she didn't understand why so she merely blinked.

"I can cook eggs." He seemed absurdly proud and the Twi'lek youngling nodded solemnly. "I'll show you how, I can cook eggs for you." Then he sighed and his shoulders actually drooped in disappointment. "But there aren't any here."

Seddwia hid in the crate he pushed carefully haphazardly-looking against a wall with enough room for her to move away among other crates if she needed to but sufficient to conceal her if and when other troopers came.

They did and ask Shy if he'd seen anything, if he heard anything. He had snapped to attention. "No, sir. Nothing unexpected, sir."

"Do you need relief?" One of the other stormtroopers had asked.

"No, sir. I opened up a crate and took a few packets of ST so I'm good for a while."

"We'll continue searching," then they moved off.

In spite of the closeness of the stormtroopers, in spite of the handheld sensors, they didn't pull the crate away from the wall and discover her. They didn't fill the cargo space with the acrid smell and destructive power of blaster. They didn't kill her. Seddwia almost passed out in relief.

# # #

Shy scratched at the scar on the side of his face that ran to one side of his mouth then to the tip of his chin. He didn't remember how he'd gotten it – that, like most of his life, remained on Kamino. Sometimes he woke almost knowing who he'd been. He preferred waking up to dreams of green fields with the strings of bright, young plants entwined in his fingers as his feet squelched in the cool mud.

# # #

Rumors, there were always rumors and Shy ignored rumors the way he ignored opinions and the laughter of the flesh droids sharing his barracks.

Until Vader's Fist, until the 501st showed up in the sector with Vader leading them, until it became more than rumor.

The 501st had lost men and Shy's squad was incorporated into Vader's Fist. Shy had frowned, looking at his sergeant. "Will we have to do fancy stuff now?" His voice had been fearful.

Sergeant flesh droid shook his head. "Not you, One-four-seven. I'll make sure of it."

They moved on and Shy tried hard to forget what they did. On good days he knew he had forgotten the worst of it, on bad days he remembered the rest. On his very best days he dreamed of mud and green plants and laughing younglings with dark hair and amber brown eyes.

Sergeant Flesh Droid made sure he didn't do the 'fancy' stuff and he often ended up on guard duty for the perimeter. Shy could do that better than anyone else in the squad, standing still with nothing on his mind but duty, never falling asleep or inattentive, his thoughts washing over him like clear water.

Sargeant Flesh Droid gave him new orders, orders to someplace where there was only guard duty. For all their laughter, his squad was sorry to see him go. He hadn't been the brightest or the best of them, but he'd been patient and a proper trooper in every way they knew and he had tried. For his part, Shy was glad to leave; he was beginning to like them.

# # #

"Wow! That is huge," exclaimed the flesh droid next to Shy who was looking out the window of the transport.

Shy had been staring at a point midway between his chest and the back of the seat in front of him. Non-existent points were difficult to see and catching one took a lot of attention without moving. On the few times he caught one, he knew something… good would happen.

He'd caught one the day before they had all escaped from prison.

He'd caught one the night before he'd told the first Jedi where to go.

He'd caught one moments before he had helped Jesse rescue his first child who they named Crys.

Shy hadn't caught one in a long time and wondered if they were all gone. Shy contemplated a moment as he wondered if the flesh droid trooper had been talking to him and required an answer. He glanced out the window as he noticed the other watching him; a sure sign he wanted to talk.

It was a large, metal broken ball; a black eggshell cracked in two. It was so black it seemed like a void in the sky against the distant stars, striated with grey valleys and grooves in the metal. There were shadows of deeper black and protuberances of more various shades of gray. The circled edge of it eclipsed red and orange from the nearby sun, as if it had fallen in its own yolk. There were several destroyers around it and a myriad of smaller vessel.

Shy nodded. "I don't think I've seen anything larger that wasn't a planet."

The other smiled and continued talking, Shy listened only for pauses, for when the flesh droid expected him to speak.

They moved off the transport in formation and were taken to the mess for meal, which was better than the meals in the other Imperial installation then to their new barracks for their introductory briefing.

Shy listened then nodded.

He was a guard; his duty now was always guard duty.

Like Boil in prison.

It was opportunity.

There'd be no fancy stuff and that pleased him but he'd need to change his words at night.

_Stay away. Stay away. This place is dangerous. Stay away._

* * *

><p>Read and review...<p> 


	9. Eggs are Fragile Things - II

**Eggs are Fragile Things II**

It was called the planet killer and there were humans and humanoids there; Twi'leks, Wroonians, humans… but mostly there were Wookies. Big, strong, intelligent howlers with a keen sense of patience in dealing with nano-electronics and microphase particles. Their long hair was wild, unkempt and filthy; they were given no grooming time. Their eyes were rimmed in red anger. There were restraint collars on most of them – evidence they weren't there willingly.

Shy found out the only reason the troopers could guard them without being torn apart was because families were separated without communication and held hostage for each other.

There were a few clones, deserters. He recognized Backup. Shy tilted his head and wondered if Checkout was here as well. Backup and Checkout had never been apart.

Instead of the tracking collars they'd all had in prison, Backup had a surgically precise scar on the junction of his shoulder where the deltoid muscle met the trapezius.

"Track and pied," explained the sergeant leading Shy on his shakedown assignment as he gestured to Backup. For his part, Backup only glanced back lifelessly as he continued working, the sleeveless orange shirt brushing back, showing the scar as he lifted the boxes to the pallet; revealing long lines of red and purple bruising on his inner arms.

"Pied?" Shy tilted his head. Backup didn't look as healthy as the other clones; he looked thinner as though he was wasting away, as though dispair was eating him. The other deserters glared at him with hatred or disgust or even envy; Backup's eyes expressed no emotion.

"Personal implanted explosive device. Only a few of the prisoners get those, all the deserters and a few others. Leaving certain boundaries activates it."

Shy frowned. "Do they know the boundaries? Is the explosion instantaneous?"

The new flesh droid sergeant laughed. "Worried they'll jump you on your rounds? Don't be, your proximity deactivates the device."

_Opportunity_, whispered something in his mind.

"Is that wise, sir? Couldn't they hold a guard hostage as they…" Shy raised a hand in thought, "I don't know, stole a ship or found tools to deactivate the devices."

The flesh droid laughed. "We have contingencies and overrides for that as well."

Shy nodded. "That's good to know, sir." He paused and glanced at the flesh droid. "I'd simply deactivate the guard's armor." Flesh droid paused and Shy knew that was at least one of the contingencies.

# # #

It was easy to know which ones would try to escape; they didn't stare at him with hate, they stared with contemplation wondering where he was weak, wondering how they could take him, wondering if they should try him or take their chance with the next guard. Shy was alert to all this and they didn't try him.

Shy's first week there was an escape attempt in the warehouse room. Two Wroonians took down a guard with a makeshift buzzknife while a wookie took out the second guard. Maybe it was simply suicide. They were shot where they stood, the wookie landing over the guard bleeding out on the deck, one arm in the wookie's twitching paw, the other some distance away. Shy had heard that a wookie could rip a man's arms off; he'd never really known it was true.

When they pulled the wookie's file to punish his family, they discovered his mate and young one had already died; his mate in one of the frequent accidents dealing with the peizo-electric crystals and the young one from lack of nutrition.

Shy needed to think about that more, there was something here to know but he didn't let his mind wander as the prisoners stared at him with contemplation.

First objective, then; figure out how the wookies knew what happened in other sections.

Backup was in the warehouse room when the attempt happened. He didn't stare at the attempt, didn't look at anyone or anything, didn't tense as the stormtroopers filed into the room firing at the three. He simply continued unloading the boxes from the transport pallet until some stormtrooper ordered him against the wall where he went and stood.

Backup did as he was ordered, but nothing more and never with any emotion. His eyes didn't hold anything. Shy knew then Checkout was dead.

Late one night in the barracks, Shy was staring, looking for non-existent points when he caught two; not one but two.

Shy held his breath for a moment, the let the points fade into non-existence again, leaning back in his rack and closing his eyes. Slowly, in controlled measure, he released his breath. He'd caught two; he'd never caught two before. That meant luck. That meant good things would occur. He gave a nod then sat up and reached for his helmet to begin running a check of the electronics. If something good was going to happen, he'd have to be ready for it. His armor would need to be in perfect shape.

The receivers of his helmet were set to default optimal. Shy considered leaving them at the default then remembered that you couldn't count on good things landing in your lap; you had to reach for them like reaching for a goldenfruit growing on a tree. Shy opened the receivers as wide as they would cover without permanently damaging his hearing.

It was an eye-opening experience. The battle-station was like a living creature, groaning as metal expanded and contracted in its daily turns around the star, humming as the piezo-crystals vibrated, whirring from small engines, whistling from the transports landing and departing. And it whispered the secrets of the wookies to him.

Two secrets were revealed when Shy was guarding where the young wookies were kept. Even they worked; nothing delicate like their parents, but hauling boxes, unpacking things and, for some of them, checking over manifests and minor accounting. Shy had raised his eyebrow over that; enemy younglings doing the accounting and Emperor Palpatine expected a balanced budget?

One of the younglings had a small temper tantrum and threw a box at Six seventy three. Six seventy three was about to pull the youngster out for solitary but Shy called through the channels. "Don't, Six seventy three. I want to see what happens. I'll owe you a favor."

"Fine," had been the hard reply then, in a less emotional voice, "you'd better do something about your helmet; I'm getting a lot of feedback static."

"Will do," replied Shy as he watched an older wookie youngling, only slightly shorter than any of the guards, quickly move and quiet the one throwing a tantrum. Shy had no doubt her words were unheard by the other guards, his own helmet barely caught the low, sub-audible tones as she hooted softly, quietly. Shy grunted in discovery and taped the few words as she spoke them. He'd run them through translation later.

Shy continued watching. He'd caught two points so there would be something else to discover.

Her brown furry fingers flicked through the younger one's pelt as her hoots came into audible range. He watched as she nuzzled the young one behind the ears and on his shoulders. Calming, the smaller put a hand on her arm, his own stubby fingers rubbing through her fur. Grooming her as a child would an adult, then bent his head to her elbow and took a deep sniff, rubbing his head on her arm.

"Satisfied?" Six seventy three mocked and Shy nodded, stepping into the pen and moved with quick step to the two.

"Back to work," he said as his hand smacked the female, his fingers catching in the tangled fur of her arm where the other had rubbed his head. He pulled in a hard jerk and she yelped, jumping back and turning toward the manifests.

"Filthy beasts," growled Six seventy three.

"They are," Shy agreed and wiped his hand against his armor, surreptitiously wedging the clump of fur into his belt, an idea blooming in his mind. "That favor, Six seventy three; you have duty for the piezo-crystal section tomorrow, don't you?"

Six seventy three didn't move for a moment and Shy knew he was terrified of the big wookies that worked there. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Tomorrow's my off day and it's a big favor so I think you'll owe me, but I'll take the second half of your duty."

When Shy reported for the second half of Six seventy three's duty, he took a detour through where the young wookies were working. While there wasn't a change in the audible volume of the room, Shy's helmet went quiet of everything sub-sonic except the sound of the battle-station itself; then a small litany of wookie sounds came from one and only one wookie.

_Very interesting_, Shy thought as he made his way to where the adult wookies, the females, worked on the crystals. Here his helmet once again picked up the sub-audible vocals of the wookies interspersed among their audible growls and snarls.

Six seventy three was jubilant to see him and was out the door with thanks almost before Shy was in position.

Shy understood his desire to shorten his duty. These wookies stared with both hate and contemplation. Fatalities among the stormtroopers was highest when guarding the female wookies.

"That's your subject," Six seventy three had pointed to a tall, broad-shoulder wook with light-tipped fur on his way out the door.

Shy moved to her, watching her fingers clench tightly on the tool in her hand. Shy had no doubt she was wishing it was his throat or the throat of any other stormtrooper. Her upper lip curled in preparation for a growl but before she could speak her eyes flared open. She raised her head higher, her nostrils wide as she sniffed the air.

"You know, don't you," Shy thought to himself. "You know I've been in the room with the younglings. Let's see how you like this." He flicked on the external speaker of his helmet and the sub-audible hoots he'd recorded yesterday flowed into the room already crowded with noise from the vibrating crystals.

The volume was low even though Shy was certain the others had the default setting on their helmets. The wookies, Shy decided, must have amazingly good hearing. The entire room went quiet of sub-audibles except the two voices from his helmet; a young child missing his mother and a big sister giving comfort.

Shy had known that from watching them, from seeing their interaction so similar to what he'd seen on Saleucami between Shaeeah and Keeli during the women's quarantine.

The anger went out of the big female and she turned back to her work on the crystals. Shy glanced around at the other guards. They were intent upon their own charges so Shy turned and teased out the small clump of fur he'd tucked in his armor. For a moment it sat, like a dark, fuzzy chick on his belt then fell. It drifted toward the floor but didn't make it before the female wookie had it in her hand. She rubbed the back of her furry fingers to her nose with a sniff as if she had a bit of dust tickling her then her hands moved back to their work. Shy had no idea where that small clump of fur had gone.

Shy was glad he had the recorder on. Immediately the sub-audibles became more than intense and directed. This was the exchange of information. Shy nodded as he took a step back from the big girl and observed the room.

The trooper-droids were oblivious. During break he'd run the new message in his helmet through translation and make sure it didn't say anything like 'Rip his arms off, mom. He touched me." Then he'd play it for them.

It was a start.

* * *

><p>More later... maybe in a week. At the moment, I'm finishing up Scars and then plan a break of a few days from posting.<p>

As always... read, enjoy, review...


	10. Eggs are Fragile Things III

**Eggs are Fragile Things III**

Shy stared at the oval, white object. An egg. A _kriffing_ hard-boiled egg. He glanced around at the others. Some thought nothing of it, tapping the egg against the edge of their plate or the table and quickly peeling it. But it was easy to see that some, a few, of the clones had never seen a hard-boiled egg before as they looked at it, touching the hard shell experimentally, then observed and mimicked their brothers in eating it.

Shy twisted his lips absently. It was better to think of them as flesh-droid, meat-droid instead of clones. His brothers were clones so clones were his brothers. He knew it was only a disguise they wore. These weren't brothers so they weren't clones and flesh-droids were the best he could think of to describe them.

Shy brought his attention back to the egg as he tilted his head simply observing it. One of the flesh-droids from his barracks laughed softly then bent toward Shy.

"It's an egg, One-four-seven," he explained, "cooked in its own shell. Just tap the shell and peel it, then eat the inner portion." The flesh-droid gestured towards others in the mess. "They're good, especially with the white sauce, and we get them occasionally." Then the flesh-droid, his dinner finished, moved to return the tray and dirty plates before heading out.

Shy set the egg on the center of his plate. He gave it a spin. As it twirled steadily on his plate, his fingers softly tapped the table for a moment then he circled his fingers around the egg, as if cradling a nuna chick.

An egg.

It meant something.

A hard-boiled egg.

Like the first hard-boiled egg he'd ever seen, a joke played on the Captain and her kitchen crew. A joke by Backup and Checkout and young Jekk.

A hard-boiled egg and Backup.

It meant something.

Jekk was Home being a farmer. Shy would have liked that, being a farmer instead of what the commander had him doing. He preferred running his thick, square-tipped fingers through the young grasses that would become as tall and golden as the moonlight that shined over the farm when Checkout had come pleading for help in cooking.

Checkout… Shy bowed his head and chewed the inner portion of his lip. Checkout and Backup.

Backup was here on Project ODS and suddenly Shy realized that the hardboiled egg needed to go to Backup.

That was what it meant.

He lifted the egg with his fingers to gently drop it in one of this belt pouches.

Shy pulled on his helmet, returned the tray and moved off to duty.

It was another day before Shy saw Backup. He'd been taken to interrogation again. He was moving stiffly as if there were unhealed wounds under his bruises. Interrogation was not kind to Backup and that meant Backup hadn't told them very much.

Contemplating Backup as he unloaded one of the small transport ships, Shy nodded to himself. He'd have to do something about that as well. About interrogation; something so he could one day make it back to Captain Suu and Home would still be there; the slender, young blades of grass, verdant with life in spring turning a russet gold to harvest, and the friendly trees protecting the house and barn still there instead of crushed in the mud by the weapons of a company of flesh-droid stormtroopers.

Second objective: destroy interrogation records.

"Hey, deserter," Shy called at Backup in a harsh voice. He called again when Backup didn't respond. "Interrogation-bait, I'm talking to you," then threw the egg at Backup when the other clone turned. The flesh-droid guarding the area laughed but Backup's reflexes were still good; he caught the egg. Inside his helmet Shy grinned. "Good thing you caught it, it might be raw."

Backup was expressionless as he looked at the egg in his hand with no more emotion than if it had been some piece of equipment he was unloading.

No good. Shy wanted something, some acknowledgement. "You know how to tell, don't you?" Shy's voice was mocking.

Shy was glad for the frown on Backup's face. It meant Backup was thinking and, perhaps he'd remember Saleucami and playing a joke on Captain Suu.

Backup almost had enough hate to glare at Shy, but he set the egg on the flat surface of a box and gave it a twirl. It spun smoothly, with no wobbles. Backup picked up the egg and tapped it on the table, peeled it and, after a moment's consideration, took a bite.

Shy moved off on his rounds, his mind tumbling in thought. He needed to find a wookie; rather needed to find matching wookie families. He already had some idea of which female wookies were related to which younglings by the female's movements and actions as he played them various parts of what he recorded passing through the children's section. Wookies were good with piezo-electrics and phase circuitry. Changing or destroying interrogation holovids would be child's play to them. Shy grinned inside his helmet that he'd adjusted again to filter out the station's sounds. About every other day he'd end up in piezo-electrics with the females. Going through the youngling wookies work area was a shortcut to his barracks that he went through almost every day.

Only he knew he took occasional messages between the two groups. There had been some unintelligible messages the translate program couldn't decipher, like the first one from the younglings. He hadn't been able to understand a single word, but he took the chance and played it for the females anyway. He was fairly sure they wouldn't tear him to pieces; at that point they knew he was carrying messages and that made him valuable. Maybe later they'd realize he was doing it intentionally.

He suspected the cells of the female wooks were close enough to the holding area of the males for messages to pass between the males and females. It had been the children incommunicado. After adjusting his helmet and trading for a shift of the cells, he knew it was true. He had heard the low tones faintly as he leaned his head against a wall; and the children's voices couldn't reach that low sub-bass sound of the males or even the larger females.

Shy knew his Captain Suu and her trooper, Cut, wouldn't go anywhere without the children. Edge and Cass and Baffle wouldn't go anywhere without the children; Jesse and Riposte only left the children behind to go to battle.

Why would the wookies go anywhere without their children?

* * *

><p>Shy took a deep breath and looked down at the miniature braid – three fine hairs from a wookie's pelt that had been tucked into the joint of his knee.<p>

Although the room was as noisy as ever with growls and chuffs and the nasal sounds of the wookies there were no sub-audible sound. Quickly, Shy checked his helmet. There was nothing wrong with his helmet and he looked over the room.

There was nothing out of place. The female wookies still growling off-handed, partial talk and partial threat to the stormtroopers, as they usually did while they worked on the big crystals. The stormtroopers, one guarding each female, were attentive and usually stood with a back to curved wall.

Something would happen today; Shy hoped it wasn't an escape attempt. He wasn't ready; he'd barely begun to communicate with them.

Shy's normal charge, the big, light-tipped wookie had been working on the big clear crystal, lining the micro-fissures with gluing molecules when one of the others in the room had yelped. Every trooper's blaster had instantly turned in her direction. The smaller, glossy black wookie had hunched her shoulders defensively and tucked her fingers in her lips, as though the small cutter she was working with had nipped her fingers with its blue light. The troopers had turned back to their regular charges and Shy didn't let anyone know that his charge, the light-tipped wookie, had reached down and barely touched the armor covering the bend of his right knee, the poleyn and greave.

During break he had found a small line of hair and placed it in one of his pouches to inspect later.

Shy took a deep breath and looked down at the miniature braid – three fine hairs from a wookie's pelt. One hair was agouti; brown and light-tipped, his charge. Another hair was dark brown, almost glossy black and Shy thought that had been the one who had her fingers nipped by the cutter. But the third hair was a silver grey and that confused Shy; he hadn't seen any wookies with hair that color.

He sighed. He would take a another turn in the cell units; he'd taken sufficient 'hard' duty to ask a trade for something easy - like the cells. Maybe there'd be a silver wookie in there though he hadn't seen one earlier.

Three fine hairs and Shy knew those were the females chosen to escape. He wondered briefly if they had a plan. He hoped so, his best plan was terrible but he had to let them know that Backup went also.

* * *

><p>It was a conversation.<p>

Shy had gotten a hair from Backup by the simple expediency of walking up to the deserter, grabbing his hair in a fist and jerking Backup toward the metal parts he was unloading.

"Faster, deserter," he ordered as he pulled his hand back, bringing with his fingers a few hairs.

Backup didn't react, not to the hair being pulled and not to the orders. He moved no faster than he'd been.

It had taken Shy half his off-shift to securely weave Backup's short, single hair into the small braid. The next day he passed the male wookies in their work crew and stopped a moment to watch them, asking one of the meat-droid guards how he knew when they would attack.

Shy could see they knew him, he noticed the way the wookies looked at him, catching his eyes through the slit of his helmet. It was in the way their eyes moved with him, the way their nostrals flare as if taking in his scent. Perhaps it was the children's scent from walking through the children's pen most days or perhaps his frequent assignments in the crystal room with the female wookies or maybe it was even possible the wookies sang information in those low tones to each other every night while their plans were disguised by the racous howls of other wookies.

Shy had made sure to come during the short lunch break. He had cautiously set the small braid near one of the packets on the table as he looked over the dull, brown chunks of texturized edible something.

"Looks pretty tasteless," he commented to the flesh-droid who was paying no attention to him but watching the wookies sharply.

"Wookie chow. They eat it up fast enough," commented the stormtrooper. "Move back now, out of arm's reach.'

Shy kept his comment to himself as he moved back. He saw a big wookie paw slide the tiny hairs between his fingers. Shy wondered if that tiny braid would get lost among the furry coats of the wookies as they shouldered each other aside with low barks and mock-growls at each other.

They sat to eat communally, passing food to each other and Shy glanced at the flesh-droid on duty to see if this was normal, because he had no doubt that little braid was being passed around as well.

Shy went on to his assignment in the crystal room where he discovered he had two charges.

"What's going on?"

"The general says the separation from the children and males is pacifying them," growled Four-ninty-four unhappily.

"Maybe a duty or two would show him how wrong he is," mutter another trooper-droid, Nine-nine-eight-six. as one of the females grinned ferociously at him, showing her strong, white teeth.

"I think I'll trade for a turn in the cells," murmured Shy.

"Good luck with that," growled Four-ninty-four who hadn't traded into the dangerous work and so had no trades into something easy; something a little safer.

Shy's helmet was recording the sub-audibles; the low noises below the range of human hearing, as he constantly did for later translation. It seemed mostly conversation and that seemed right; they'd have to wait for the braid to be... analyzed seemed the best word.

It took him most of the shift to discern they were repeating something. He tagged the dialogue to go over later. It could be just a name; so much of what they said didn't translate and Shy had decided most of those had to be names.

It was a direction - fourth level cells - and Shy had no doubt it was directed at him.

Shy gave a crooked smile. He was now part of both conversation and conspiracy.


	11. Eggs are Fragile Things - IV

**Eggs are Fragile Things IV**

Backup grinned savagely at Shy, alive for the first time since Shy had seen him on the planet killer. He reached and touched Shy's gloved hand. "It's been grand, my brother," then turned and sprinted back down the corridor, toward where the oncoming troopers would be coming after they'd taken care of the males but Backup would reach the hangar deck before their presence deactivated his PIED. It would be a small explosion but Backup would know the best place on the big transport for the most damage. Backup would place his body nearest a sensitive area which would cause the entire ship to explode, Backup's small explosion magnified and intensified.

It would be a small explosion, just enough to kill a trooper, but Backup would know the best place on the big transport for the most damage. Backup would place his body nearest a sensitive area which would cause the entire ship to explode, Backup's small explosion magnified and intensified.

The boundary light bounced to red and inside Shy's helmet he could see an overlay of the scene on his visor, Backup running, sleek and fast like a clonetrooper, his shoulder targeted and a light counting down.

There was no sorrow in Shy. Backup had chosen to give them time, chosen to die with a ship, chosen to go to Checkout. "Move on," he growled at them and the wooks, knowing what would happen, ran to the transport. The big, light-tipped female grabbing the old silver one in her arms while Shy pushed on the shoulder of one of the smallest child wookies.

Shy turned and slammed the cargo door shut, seeing Backup's final moment through the transparent durasteel door then the flood of flame as it rolled over them. The explosion had been larger than expected and where Backup had slipped his body far more sensitive. Shy could see a line of red and yellow flowers blooming, slowly swallowing the hard metal of the destroyers.

But they were already moving away, lifting off and turning even as the flames licked at the transport. Shy stared as the red on the transparent hatch turned to black then flaked white and gone, hypnotized, but a rough paw grabbed him by the shoulder with a growl and easily pulled him back as the blast doors closed.

Inside the transport, the wookies were howling and raucously calling instructions to each other that Shy didn't hear. Inside his helmet he was saying quiet words for Backup and Checkout.

Words Commander Cody spoke each night.

Words Jesse spoke each night.

Words of remembrance.

Backup and Checkout were his first; he didn't remember any brothers before prison, before reconditioning, before Saleucami, and Crux didn't need to be remember – he was on Saleucam, beside big rock forever overlooking the living fields of green.

"I remember you, my brother Backup. I remember you, my brother Checkout." But he didn't remember the rest of the words and so simply continued saying what he did know. "I remember you…" again and again.

Shy didn't recognize when he fell to his knees or when one of the younger wookies tugged his helmet off. The young one handed the helmet to the glossy black female who dove into the innards with the delicate tools that would change the helmet's transmissions. But the young one sat next to Shy and put furry arms around his armored shoulders and hooted low wookie words to his sorrow.

Shy curled up, bringing his knees to his chest and curling his arms around his bowed head. He whimpered softly then broke into sobs.

His captain stroked his shoulders with her slender, pink fingers then grabbed and pulled him closer, almost into her lap.

Shy's fingers reached trembling for her arms as he remembered long ago, when they'd first landed. She'd given him goldenfruit and shown him a brother's child with honey brown eyes and dark hair.

And there was a time when Keeli had fallen and scraped his knee.

"Ma-ma," the toddler had cried out. "Ma-ma." And none of the troopers could comfort him.

None of the troopers could comfort him.

"Ma-ma," Shy whispered into his sobs. "Ma-ma."

"You're home now, my boy, you're home.

# # #

Sinker met Cody at the port. Cody received a few odd looks for his blue skin, this was mostly a Gran flight, but most of the glances were for his limp – unusual for one of the incoming migrant workers who needed to be healthy to work hard – and the texture of his hair which hadn't had time to grow into the common, long Wroonian style. Still, he had passed muster at Immigration Control and that counted for quite a lot.

Sinker, his own resemblance to the clonetroopers over a decade ago minimized by his mutations, his fluffed beard and the beating that had changed bone structure and made it impossible for him to read, was waiting for Cody with two children. Cody recognized Keeli, almost ten years old and grinning wide as he recognized his Uncle Cody. He tugged his hand away from Sinker and ran up to Cody slowing down only so he wouldn't knock Uncle Cody over. He'd done that the last time, greeted Cody so quick and enthusiastically, that Cody had slipped and fallen. Cody laughed and hugged the boy, giving a gentle tug on one short lek before running his hand through his nephew's dark hair.

"I'm tougher than that, Keeli," he grinned, glad to be back on Saleucami, "falling down won't hurt me." He faced the other lad, a youngling of almost fifteen years with somber brown eyes and dark hair. He wore the typical vest, pants and boots of a Saleucami farmer and had the look of a hard-working farm boy, but he had a crooked arm, an ill-healed break, and a look in his eyes Cody knew. Cody nodded softly as he recognized an Order 37 child.

Cody tread carefully around Order 37 children; so many of them had a bad past and found it difficult to regain trust, especially the ones who hadn't been rescued young. "Are you part of Cass's family?" Cody didn't recognize him and Jesse hadn't mentioned a new child when Cody had seen him several months earlier.

The young man, he'd seen too much to be a boy, snorted lightly with a small grin. "Is it so evident?"

Cody nodded slightly. "If you know what to look for, you can find commonalities."

"I'm Clon, Riven's son."

Cody glanced to Sinker with delighted shock on his face then back to Clon. "Riven's alive? He's back?"

Though Sinker smiled and nodded, it was Clon who answered him. "Yes. He's back and he's brought us – his family – along. They gave him the antidote." He looked up to one of the passenger transport that had brought the seasonal migrants to Saleucami. "I wanted to see the ships. That's all."

Cody gazed at the youngling for a moment seeing a deep sadness in his expression. "So you'd know where to come in case you needed to run."

Clon's expression was somber as he nodded. "Everyone has treated us like family, but…" He bit at his lip. "We've always had to run after a time because they recognize dad. I don't think it's going to be any different here. Especially with…" He dropped his head to stare at the stone pavement.

"I hope you're wrong, Clon," said Cody softly, but so many clone deserters in one place with no way to fight or flee, with no military backup, was his own fear as well.

"Home," spoke Sinker firmly and both Cody and Clon blushed as they realized they were speaking too freely in a public place.

Clon sighed and Cody knew he was wondering if there was any place they could live openly where the war couldn't touch them. Cody knew Riven didn't enjoy farming; he had always wanted to fly, wanted to work with the ships. Maybe Riven would go to Dantooine; the base there was always in search of good mechanics and Riven was one of the best Cody had ever seen even as commander of the 7th Sky Corps of the 212th.

As they moved along, Keeli grabbed Cody's hand while Sinker strode on the other side of the boy, occasionally touching the boy's shoulder or his lek, guiding him in his manners as he talked about all manner of things. On Cody's other side, Clon kept pace with him, quiet but not sullenly so and Cody observed so much of his brothers in Clon.

He was tall and Cody wondered if he'd be taller than his father. His eyes were dark, molten brown rather than a lighter hazel-gold, his hair was darker - a glossy black and his face was slightly narrower, but the shape of his eyes and his lips was pure Fett genetics.

"Clon. Tell," said Sinker in his shortened speech. Clon glanced at Sinker with questions in his eyes. "Work."

Cody looked at Clon speculatively as Clon blushed and grinned.

"I work at the warehouse with Sinker. I started last summer, when we first arrived." He walked proud, not a boy but a man. "I help Shaeeah and Quad around their house as well but I don't take money for that. I understand they used to live on the farm but they live in Issuya now. By the end of this summer, I will have enough to pay back Riven and Larua what they paid for me."

Cody frowned. "Surely they aren't…"

"No," Clon's eyes were wide and his voice almost angry. "No, do not think that of my parents. They aren't making me pay back anything. Riven said you do things for family." He paused. "It's just important." His voice dropped, his anger suddenly gone.

Cody nodded. "It's the price of your pride; to know that you are not a burden on your family."

The young man gave a soft nod.

* * *

><p>Cody looked down at the clone sitting, barefoot and tailor-style, playing with six-year old Crux setting up soldiers on the piles of dirt and rocks they'd made. To Cody's military eyes it looked a lot like the attack of Lessu on Ryloth. There was no shadow of recognition in the clone's brown eyes, simply a friendly, childish smile at a friend of Suu.<p>

"He did great things, Suu." Cody spoke quietly. "We know he rescued at least four Jedi and…

"Look what you did, Cody." Suu had tears in her eyes and her voice was hard. "Look what you did to Shy and tell me it was worth it."

Cody was still for a moment, remembering Seddwia's wide eyes on seeing Ahsoka, her yelp of pleasure on seeing other Jedi and the tearful reunion of her with Nia and Bon. He remembered Shy covering Jesse when he'd gone after one of the first Order 37 children: Jesse running as fast as he could with a child over his shoulder followed by slavers and Shy taking them out with mechanical precision as Cody started the transport cold, half-afraid it would explode. Neither Shy nor Jesse would leave him behind when he'd taken a crippling blast to his hip as they'd stolen a star destroyer.

Cody was one of the few men who understood the scope of the rebellion; how far the waves rippled from the stone. Shy's actions had created a lot of ripples still being felt throughout the rebellion.

"Yes, Suu," Cody nodded as he put a hand on Shy's shoulder and received another childish smile. "It was worth it. It's worth every man I've lost, in whatever way I lost them."

She glared at him, her jaw clenched tightly then breathed out heavily. "You'll need to see something." She leaned over Shy, gently brushing away Cody's hand. "Trooper, the commander needs to see the pictures."

Shy froze then nodded, less a child and once again a trooper facing an unpleasant task. He stood, moving into attention then parade rest. "Yes sir. Will you build a fire for destruction?"

"No destruction this time, trooper," Suu gestured toward the porch. "He's taking them with him."

Shy stared at Cody for a moment but there was no recognition in his eyes then he gave a sharp nod. "Thank you, sir." At an easy lope, Shy moved toward towards the house.

Suu crossed her arms as she watched Shy go into the house. "Sketch was here when Sinker and the wookie brought him home. He was broken. He'd have crying, screaming nightmares some nights. Nightmares on other nights that paralyzed him – I'd come down to the kitchen to see him staring into space, just the whites of his eyes staring in the dark, terrified of moving until I was there. One day Cut and I went into town one day to visit Shaeeah, Quad and Layni. We asked Sketch to stay and watch him and the children." Suu smiled wistfully, "and of course Sketch handed them all colors."

Suu paused, her eyes bright with tears. "Shy drew then insisted on destroying what he'd drawn. He went into trooper mode;" Suu shrugged a thin, pink shoulder. "He said it was dangerous to know."

They moved to the porch when Shy had already laid out art paper and flimsi stock and was working diligently.

Large and round and black.

Shy drew like a trooper, acceptably accurate but not much else and certainly not with Sketch's talent and expertise. But he drew rapidly, as if there was only a short amount of time in which to transmit the information.

"Large and round and black, sir," Shy said as Cody and Suu moved to watch. "Like a diseased egg." Shy paused a moment. "Nothing good comes from that hollow shell."

Cody went pale as he saw what Shy was drawing.

The planet killer.

He'd heard rumors, Bail Organa had heard rumors, Mon Mothma had heard rumors; but no one had anything _but_ rumors.

He said nothing, unwilling to interrupt Shy in any way but his hands bunched into tight fists.

"Here, sir," Shy would point to something on the drawing, a bit of black shininess against all the matte black, grey and reddish-brown, tapping it hard with a fingertip. "This is important." Cody had no idea what was important about what was pointed out. He remembered though, so he could point it out to his contacts and the engineers. They'd know or figure out why it was important. He went into memory mode, remembering everything Shy said so he could repeat it verbatim to others.

"I was like Boil, sir. That's my perimeter." He pointed to another area on another drawing, a different aspect of the large round object. Inside with bare metal struts and figures, mostly brown blobs but with several in orange unloading some transport. "No tracker collars anymore; just a scar on the back."

"Wookies mostly. Micro- and nano-electronics, piezo- and phase work. Large laser-crystals, sir. Large. Big." Shy paused, his brow creasing as he thought. "As large as a hutt or a gundark. Big." He paused then repeated himself. "Big."

Cody shivered in horror. A 'big' laser crystal was the size of a man's fist. To have a crystal as large as a gundark was inconceivably destructive. To have more than one… made its name a reality. The planet killer.

Shy's jaw moved in agitation as if he wanted to spit. "Backup was there, provided a distraction. Said Checkout cracked like an egg when he hit. Cracked like an egg. Hard-boiled eggs crack, cooked eggs spin. Eggs, eggs, I told her I can cook eggs."

There was a gasp from Suu and Cody saw her hand go to her face covering her lips, but she said nothing more. Shy continued drawing, emptying his memory on flimsi and art paper, his words rolling into Cody's ears; sometimes trooper precise and sometimes nonsense. "Blue like the sky, sir and ST was the best available. These panels are eighteen meters square."

Cut had seen them on the porch and came closer bowing his head and, with a grimly sorrowing expression, quietly moved to sit at the bench, waiting until Shy was done.

Even Crux was quiet, playing with the soldiers on the little hillocks of mud and dirt and rock.

"It's only partial, sir. I didn't catch all of it." That was in reference to a series of numbers and symbols; coding of some kind.

Finally his hand dropped the crayon and he surveyed everything he'd drawn or written then wiped one eye with his fingers. Cut had taken Crux in the house to eat. Later, Cut had come out and taken his seat on the bench again. Hours had passed and evening was coming, the double moons already low in the sky even as the mild sun dropped below the horizon. Small light bugs flickered through the air.

"It's ugly. Like a spider-droid. Like the spatter of Backup when he went beyond his cage and beyond me and just a red flower. Ugly like what we did."

Shy grimaced, stood and turned to Suu, ignoring Cody. "Can I go away, Captain?" He shook his head and there were tears running down his face and had been for some time. "I don't want to come back. I don't ever want to come back. I want my feet in the mud and my fingers tangling with the stems of plants. Every time I come back, I remember," his expression twisted. "I remember more and more what I did and I don't want to remember any more…" Shy shook his head.

Suu nodded. Her own eyes were bright. "Permission granted, trooper."

Shy blinked several times then bowed his head. As he turned back, Cody caught sight of childish confusion that became a smile as he moved next to Cut on the bench. Cut smiled and scooted aside, offering Shy a peeled goldenfruit with the words, "here, son". Shy laughed and leaned his forehead against Cut's shoulder then took the fruit. Cut roughly hugged him around the shoulders.

Suu turned to Cody and gestured at the pages; pages and pages of what Shy had drawn and written. "I hope that's sufficient, Cody," her tone was angrily grim, "because I am never asking that trooper to come back."

Sufficient? Sufficient? It was a gift!

Cody nodded absently. "I'll tell them the agent died getting the information out. No one will ever question that." His voice was soft in wonder and it wasn't truly a lie. He turned his head toward Shy, wondering if he was envious of his brother who had retreated into childhood - a genuine childhood and not what they'd had on Kamino.

Then Cody turned back to the drawings. He touched one of the pages with a trembling finger. It was ugly, as Shy had said and it was probably the greatest piece of intel the rebels would ever receive. It was the greatest piece of espionage he'd ever seen. He glanced at Shy, sucking on a segment of the fruit. It was the greatest piece of espionage he'd ever seen.

"I'll have to leave immediately," he said breathlessly. Could he just… roll up the flimsis and papers like some poster? Could he just walk through town and the port and onto a ship to Pantora and his contacts then report to Aldaraan, unrolling them on Bail's office desk?

Could it be that simple? Again Cody glanced at Shy with awe.

Suu nodded. "I know."

It was only later that Cody realized she hadn't said her usual words of 'Come back when you can.'

It was worth the whatever the cost was to him as well.


	12. Home is Where the Heart Yearns

**Home is Where the Heart Yearns**

There were four human younglings, one Togruta youngling, an ancient woman .. or man … too old and wrinkled to know for sure but Riposte knew. There was a young Twi'lek man, two women alike enough to be sisters, one with a baby, and one older woman. Ten people crowded into the holo; waving and smiling, calling Riposte's name and one pudgy unconcerned baby. There was even some family pet, about knee high on the women, making noises and twirling in a circle.

Like always when he looked at the holopic, tears crowded the good memories from Riposte's face.

He flicked it off and slid it into the pouch around his neck. He glanced back where the flames licked at the twilight sky. A tribute, he supposed, to his dead family. Riposte turned to the figure next to him, a thin shadow next to the line of granite guarding for the unexpected. "Let's go Ha'lei."

The hard-face woman next to him moved into position. A stranger would never have recognized her as the woman holding the child in the holovid; even Riposte barely recognized her from the vid, she had changed so much. He know it was because the others were dead; all but Sanch who'd gone to Saleucami.

"This was my last time," she said as they moved toward their pickup point. "You'll need to get another partner." Her eyes measured him from his feet to the top of his dark sable hair. "There won't be any shortage of volunteers, you're the best."

Riposte turned his head back to where she stood, lean and strong, like his brothers. She was so different from plump, laughing Cass who tried to comfort him when he visited his wife and brothers. They had seven children now - two of her own and five that Jesse had brought home. They last time he'd been home, Cass had cried for his pain - something he couldn't do - as she ran her fingers through his short hair and over his drawn face. "Whatever you need, Riposte, take it."

"Why?" Ha'lei was wrong. He wasn't the best, she was. Bright and brilliant, smart and steady, always thinking one step ahead, she was the perfect partner.

"I'm pregnant." She had never wasted words but the words caused Riposte to stop in his tracks and turn his face to her. She shrugged and bent her head to where he was standing. "Your child."

Riposte nodded. He should have expected that. Sometimes they coupled for comfort, slow and languid; touching – so much touching – to make up for all the touch he hadn't received in prison, to prove they were still alive and capable of touching, when the others weren't. Sometimes their coupling was fast and furious, because death had been so close but they had survived and the blood rushed through their veins causing them to rip the clothes off each other only partially and leaving bruises on hard weathered skin. And sometimes they coupled, Riposte supposed, because they were together and there was nothing better to do, or because it was cold and they slept together for warmth or because there wasn't much room or for a hundred other reasons. But certainly not for love; there was no love in either of them and for some reason, Riposte thought love was necessary for a child. Riposte nodded again.

"Outer Rim?" he asked. "Do you have any particular place in mind?" He gave a soft shrug with one shoulder. "There's always Saleucami or Dantooine."

"Far away from here." She hugged her arms around her shoulders.

He supposed she meant 'far away from her memories' but she'd take those with her.

"I was thinking Wild Space," she murmured as she looked down at the ground and Riposte knew she didn't want him to come with her. Not that he blamed her; he'd be nothing but bad memories for her. Whereas she and her extended family had been the reason he'd survived prison. He wondered if she'd gather another such bedraggled family of survivors again. He knew he couldn't; that was why he'd been so delightedly astonished, felt so loved by their presence. He'd miss her.

"You'll need help, at least for a year." He made up his mind. "I'll come. You'll need my help. We can stop by Cut and Suu's, they're holding some money for me. You can have it. I don't think Sanch will want to go." Sanch had been the other surviver of that family.

"But we can ask." She gave a little laugh and shook her head. They both knew Sanch had settled on Saleucami as if he'd been waiting all his life for the little plot of land he had purchased and the girl he had married just last year. Or had it been the year before?

"I'll leave when you and the child are settled in someplace good."

Looking up again, she nodded. "I'd appreciate the help."

Riposte nodded. He'd met her when he was almost eleven and looked twenty; when she was twenty-one and looked seventeen. Now, his features were worn. His skin clung to his face tightly; there were lines around his eyes and across his forehead, deep creases from his nose to his lips. She had fared better, still pretty but in a woman's solid manner rather than a flitting, flirtatious girl, but she too looked worn and tired.

Riposte gave a wan chuckle. "Someplace where," his fingers reached up to touch his face; from just under one eye and across the sharp cheekbone then down to his lips, "I'm the only person with this face."

She nodded.


	13. Everything Else

Author notes: This is a wandering bit and only occasionally directly related to the remainder of Haruu II. Chopper's remembrance of what happened is presented twice because I couldn't figure out the best place for it...

**DANTOOINE**

Her first sight of the Gwydr marker coincided with meeting the twins. She took that for a good sign. They were two men, dark haired with laugh lines around their brown eyes and strong shoulders. One carried a squirming child who wasn't holding on tightly with small hands on his shoulders and that kind of trust only came from a parent; a trusted parent. She didn't have to look at his throat or the embroidery of his gloves to tell he was married though she took a quick glance which verified it. The other man was also married; his gloves liberally laced with multiple kin lines as well as the gold banding of a continent fair winner. There was good luck, indeed, in Clan Gwydr.

"I heard that Clan Gwydr had luck." Her fingers curled around the papers tucked in her glove, her other hand gripped Sefan's smaller fingers through the thin leather. "We are clanless," she didn't want there to be any confusion. "There is no good alliance to be had with us." Bai looked down at the ground, waiting for them to tell her she had the traditional two days as well as the time it took to walk through Gwydr's lands. The city wasn't far beyond Clan Gwydr and she still might make it to register her emancipation before her time ran out.

The twins looked at each other, the one with the child shrugged softly. "You look young to be clanless. And him," He nodded his head at Sefan's twisted body and Bai's own body grew taut, waiting for derision. "He's definitely too young." The twin made no comment about deformity and Bai looked up at the corner of her eye.

"I have my emancipation." Again her fingers clenched the papers tucked in her glove. "Sefan is repudiated in the same document."

The twin with the magnificently decorated gloves looked at his brother and spoke in another language.

"It is rude, Lev, to speak Mando'a in front of someone who can't understand it."

But the other man merely grinned and Bai wondered what he'd said. With the rebuke, she knew the one with the child ranked higher; though with the gloves she had thought otherwise. She shifted her body facing the higher ranked, shamed, her chapped face turning red. He was going to make her ask for the night in a common tent.

"I would ask for…" she began, but he cut her off.

"Insult, little traveler, comes before hospitality." He reminded her. The other twin grinned even wider and Bai's eyes went wide in distress. That was true, an insult must be settled before any hospitality could be offered or accepted. She looked at the man who had insulted her; he was tall and wide-shouldered. He'd be strong and even a race, her best sport, wouldn't do because his legs were longer than hers and not tired from trekking the day.

"I have nothing for stake," she whispered.

"You have the emancipation papers," reminded the one who'd spoken some insult she hadn't understood. "I'd accept that."

Was all of Clan Gwydr so cruel? Slowly she nodded. "And your stake?" Her voice was almost lost in the evening wind and he touched his chin with two fingers thoughtfully.

"What is it you want, traveler?" He asked, as if it were a serious competition instead of some cruel jest. "I have nerf and bantha, but those require work and alliances. I have warm clothing, good food and tools of various types from prod sticks to a full loom."

She pointed to his gloves. "That," she said gesturing her fingers. "Alliance." He frowned and she backed down but only just. "Personal alliance, not family, not clan." His frown lighted.

"I believe I have that authority." He nervously glanced to his brother with the child. "Don't I, Col?"

The other one slung the giggling child over his shoulder, holding her tightly with an arm. He sighed. "Sometimes brother, you are such a _di'kut_ that I understand why you needed to marry into so large a family. Almost eight years and you still couldn't survive without all that advice." He held the squirming girl tighter. "Yes, that is your authority, though Nargwan would allow you to wager his right hand if you wished."

The one with the alliance gloves spoke again in the odd language. This time there was no rebuke, just a soft smile from the man with the child who turned to Bai and Sefan. He held out his gloved palm showing the eight pointed direction rose. It was newly worked into the material; he'd been recently appointed and Ehveen had taken pride in embroidering his new rank on his globes as she sat in the woman's weaving tent.

"I am chirgyo Col Wanderer of Clan Gwydr. I will hold you both accountable; emancipation papers against personal alliance. I also will determine the contest and the winner. You may have a substitute."

Bai nodded, there was really no choice. Lev wanted her as worker in his tent until she no longer needed her emancipation papers. That would be two years of labor for only shelter and food. She hoped he would also feed Sefan because he was named in the papers. Bai wondered if she should argue that before the contest then decided not; if he refused, she could insist it invalidated the stakes or request another trial she would be more rested for. "I accept your authority."

"Me, too, Col," said the one called Lev with a laugh. "Or you'd beat it out of me. What's the contest?"

"A race," spoke the chirgyo and Bai's heart sunk into the cold, frozen snow. The man took a wider stance, bracing his feet in the snow. "Starting at the boundary marker," he gestured to the marker barely an arm's reach away, "and safely through the bridge of my legs." He laughed softly and dropped the wriggling girl to the snow. She laughed and scampered through his legs on all fours making the lowing sound of a content bantha as she showed them what to do.

Bai exhaled in wonder. She would be clumsy but his brother would be far clumsier and he might not make it without pushing the chirgyo into the snow. She turned her eyes to Sefan pulling on her hand.

"Me, Bai. I can do that."

And he could, his body wasn't slow or unable, merely twisted; uneven shoulders and a slightly short leg. Sefan was fast and agile; practice from dodging so many ill-wishes.

"Substitute," she called softly. "Sefan."

"I'll call Tyrii as substitute," said Lev as he pointed to the child.

Chirgyo Col shook his head. "The judge's daughter, Lev? Undue influence and not allowed."

"Then I'll get Nub."

"That's acceptable Lev, but I warn you, the race will be long over before you even get back to camp. I am not staying here in the cold with Ehveen cooking spring green soup waiting for you to drag Nub away from his precious bantha."

"Oh!" Lev's lips twisted in bemused amusement. He looked at his competitor; thin, shivering, body twisted and coming up barely past to his chest. He held out his hand to Sefan to honor fair competition.

Sefan looked at the big, multi-colored gloved hand for a moment, the first time anyone had offered anything more than insult then took it in his own worn, thread-bare gloved hand and gave a good shake.

"Hold Tyrii," Chirgyo Col handed the girl-toddler to Bai. "I suspect it isn't going to be as simple as I had hoped."

It wasn't. Sefan scrambled quickly through the legs shouting victoriously. Lev only a step behind him, barreled into his brother, both men tumbling laughing into the snow. It quickly became a wrestling match and only their laughter reassured Bai that it wasn't deadly serious.

As quickly as it began, the two men sprang apart, panting and the chirgyo rubbing the back of his wrist to a bloody nose while his brother winced in pain and rubbed his side. Sefan stepped forward to Lev. "Personal alliance," he said, claiming the prize for Bai.

Immediately Lev drew himself to his full height and seriousness; Bai knew the chirgyo would make him honor the agreement but there were different degrees of acceptance. Sefan's twisted body called forth more gestures of warding off bad luck than any form of honor.

Lev bowed, sharply, holding the pose for a fraction longer than needed. "Of course, cousin. Come to my family's tent for rest and refreshment." He turned to Bai and executed the same graceful bow. "Cousin, if you would."

Chirgyo Col came and grabbed the toddler who was beginning to squirm against Bai's arms and gave Bai a wink. The four of them walked toward the encampment of Clan Gwydr while Tyrii ran around them pretending to be a bantha.

"We do not ask for much, Sefan," she whispered fiercely in his ear. "We do not want the alliance to go sour from asking too much of him."

"No, Bai." He reached out to take her gloved hand in his. "I would be happy with my belly not touching my back and a not-too-tattered fur to sleep in tonight." He looked up into her face with shining eyes. "Did you see, Bai? He asked and received honor."

She nodded with a smile. "I saw, Sefan. Did you see his gloves? Fair honors, clan and family alliances, children. I can't even read all the lines."

"Cousins." They both looked up at the call from Lev. He turned to the chirgyo. "Witness for me, Col. As chirgyo." Then he gave his full attention to Bai and Sefan. "I have winter watch for the next three-days." They nodded, understanding. Winter watch was a harsh but necessary duty; to keep the bantha gathered in a herd yet moving. "The path to the grounds begins here," he gestured with his hand. "So I cannot take you to my tent this evening." He shrugged and gave a laugh. "I don't often think ahead. It's a very crowded tent anyway. But I can ask Col to take you to the tent of another brother. He will treat you as alliance kin, his tent is warmer than my own, his furs dry and thicker. I swear he will offer you no insult in any form." Lev gave another, slightly embarrassed laugh. "He's not the best cook. He will offer you more than he will take for himself in all things – both tangible and intangible." Lev looked up to Col and Col nodded his affirmation, then Lev turned back to Bai and Sefan. "Can I ask you to accept Chopper's Barracks in Kierson's Cave rather than Nargwan tent of Clan Gwydr?"

"Barracks?" asked Bai dubiously, her mouth twisting around the unfamiliar word. Was this just a trick to not honor his promise? "Cave? It doesn't sound…"

The chirgyo nodded. "It is warmer than the tents, most people sleep in summer furs there. The rooms are dry, there's running water. Maybe even a hot pool if the new generators have been installed. The cave is more like a small town than anything else. There are some vid screens and always someone in the mess; always people coming and going. I think the sabacc game has been played non-stop for three years." He smiled as though with pain. "I will be spending the night there myself, probably the next few nights. Ehveen's already there."

"Oh, I didn't know, Col. So we're expecting a temperature drop?"

Col nodded and Lev winced. "If I'd known that I wouldn't have traded Gekko…"

Col smacked him in the back of the head though the blow barely ruffled the fur of the hood. "_Di'kut_." But both men smiled

"May we come to you if we have questions?" Bai asked.

"As chirgyo or cousin-kin." Col nodded. Sefan squeezed Bai's fingers tightly through the gloves. The chirgyo claimed kin as well!

Good luck indeed in Clan Gwydr. Already it had touched them.

* * *

><p>He was the ugliest, most worn-out man Baibera had ever seen. There was a dark patch over one eye though his other eye was the warm golden brown of his brothers. His raggedly cut hair was mostly dark with silver streaks and tied back carelessly. Scars, old and older, covered his face and his arms, Bai noticed that some fingers seemed shorter than others then realized that three of his fingers were missing the first joint. He limped and there was a cane at the door for when he went out.<p>

No, he wouldn't offer any insult to the twisted body of Sefan.

"Chopper, this is Baibera and Sefan who have personal alliance with Lev.

Chopper nodded slowly. "Does that mean anything special, Col?" The he turned his scarred face to Bai and Sefan. "I'm not used to Dantooine and I just want to make sure I don't accidently insult you."

Col grinned. "Yeah, when Chopper insults you, he wants you to understand exactly how much you've been insulted." Then he became serious. "May I speak to Chopper privately? In Mando'a? It is more precise for us."

"Will you tell us if he insults us?" Bai asked the chirgyo.

"Is honor so important, little cousin?" the ugly man asked gently.

"It is all we have." Bai stated and Sefan nodded.

"All you have?" he mused and turned his face toward a picture against the far wall. It was a beautiful woman, all soft shades of evening pinks and purples and a smiling man, perhaps another twin.

Bai gasped as she suddenly realized it was this man, that some of the scars on his face matched the drawing; though since the drawing he had received so many more scars.

"All you have?" He repeated then he turned back to face Bai and shook his head. "You have far more than you know. Go Col, Ehveen came by earlier. She was worried about you and we'll be meeting in the community bath. We can talk there if you want."

"Hot?" Col's eyes lit up.

"As hot as the new generators can manage," affirmed the ugly man with a grinning nod as he limped the chirygo to the door then turned to see that neither Bai nor Sefan had moved from where they stood.

"You can hang your coats there," he pointed to some hooks behind the door near where his cane leaned against the wall, as he limped back. "We'll be having spring green soup. That's why Ehveen came by, to drop some off. I baked a loaf of bread yesterday that's almost untouched. Fresh blue milk, of course; otherwise, why live on Dantooine?" He smiled as if offering a feast, "and a bit of leftover _tashki_." He limped past them toward another room. They still didn't move and he gazed at them, then shrugged and moved toward the kitchen.

Sefan pulled at Bai's hand. "What's _tashki_?" he asked softly and Baibera merely shrugged. With a sigh, Sefan moved toward the door and hung his coat, ragged and thin, next to the fine nerf-hide coat already there. He set his gloves, the embroidery stitches so recently removed, into the broken glove loop that he had repaired by the simple expediency of tying. Wiping his fingers against his shirt until they were as clean as possible, he then ran them against the leather of the man's coat, supple and well-tended, excellent leather and even better craftsmanship though there were no gloves in the loops, no embroidery to explain who he was though he'd been claimed as kin even as his face whispered it through his scars, but not clan.

Bai came and hung up her coat, as worn and tired as Sefan's, and her gloves in the loops, as equally worn and newly stitch-free as Sefan's.

They turned and went into the kitchen where the ugly man was pulling three bowls from a cabinet and spoons from a drawer. Soup was heating on the stove. He was only using one hand at a time, Bai noticed, his other hand touching the counter or ready to grab the table if his weak leg should give way.

"Sit," he encouraged as he pulled three glasses from a shelf and poured them all fresh blue milk. Bai didn't let him know that it had been a long while since they had received anything fresh.

Bai sat at the table and looked around the kitchen while Sefan looked at the soup. She wondered where Col's wife, Ehveen, had obtained spring greens during winter. She saw more drawings; several children, all golden-skinned and dark-haired though one had blue eyes instead of soulful copper-brown eyes. Yet, they weren't there in the man's home and she didn't want to ask in case the children had died. Somehow, she had known by the expression on his face that the evening woman of pinks had died.

Thinking of it, perhaps she and Sefan did have more than honor; they had each other, they were healthy for all the Sefan's back was crooked. Perhaps they even had time to make it to the city.

Another picture had him wrestling one of his brothers, several others –all twins of Col and Lev – surrounding them, laughing and very obviously wagering on the outcome.

Suddenly there was soup, hot and aromatic, in front of her. The spring greens were fresh and crisp, just wilting as she watched; the broth a mélange of bantha and nerf with a few shreds of nuna meat. A pitcher of fresh-frothed blue milk was in the center of the table and a plate holding some sticky-looking pastries was sitting next to a warm loaf of bread. A jar of some pasty white stuff was next to a jar of redberry jam and a bowl of bantha butter. It was a feast!

* * *

><p>Chopper had found them some of his clothing suitable for the communal tub in case they had nudity taboos, though most of the Dantooine tribes didn't. The boy had taken the thin shirt, far too long for him and Chopper understood why. He also understood why the boy had stared at his scarred body when he stripped in the men's showers and why the boy had slowly set the unused shirt next to Chopper's clothing and stripped off his own clothing. He had a curved spine, one shoulder growing higher, one leg shorter. Maybe later, when they weren't so afraid, he'd suggest the boy see Kix.<p>

Sefan's eyes had been wide as he soaped and rinsed himself in the shower as if soap was a luxury; Chopper knew the hot water certainly was. He couldn't take his eyes off Chopper's ragged, worn body as they both slipped into the heated water of the communal pool where their attention was taken by heat. The youngling, not quite woman and more than girl, showered, scrubbed and stripped to breech and bandeau, also stared at Chopper's scarred body.

Chopper had to drop his head and chuckle. How could scars bother him? He had been loved so very much by Sa, was still Sula's stone though he hadn't seen her since before Sa's death, and Peach's favorite, except for Sketch, of course, and occasionally Fives. And Bean! How could a man so loved be bothered by something as superficial as scars?

Sefan stayed near Chopper as though to minimize his own short leg and mismatched shoulders in contrast to Chopper's skin. Baibera was slightly lost; sitting next to Chopper would indicate a relationship that wasn't there and sitting near the chirgyo was also assuming a relationship that didn't really exist in spite of his kindness.

Chopper saw her hesitation and gestured toward the other side of Sefan. Bai nodded to herself, it was either that or sit by herself or at the children's pool. She suspected his knowledge of Dantooine custom greater than he indicated, but he had indicated he wasn't from Dantooine and so didn't follow custom. She sighed and turned her face to observe his actions and reactions. That would tell her much.

His attention was at the smaller pool where three younglings sat with the younger children; he smiled catching sight of little bean.

"Papa," called the boy as he waved then returned to his fun.

"How was he today, Ehveen?" Chopper asked a plump dark-haired woman carefully lowering herself into the heat of the pool with a gentle sigh.

"As always, Chopper, wonderfully behaved and attentive. Nub took him out with the bantha and came back full of praise.

"I'll be going back to my barracks," Chopper turned and told Sefan. "You're welcome to stay here for a while longer."

Sefan shook his head slightly. "It's been good, but it's been a long day for me."

Chopper let the faint wisp of a smile cross his lips. "I can only imagine." He pulled himself out of the tub, saying his goodbyes. "I'll be taking him with me Ehveen. Tomorrow we'll be doing some work on the fighters." He turned toward the smaller pool, the cane providing a bit of balance on the stone floor. "Ready to go, my little bean?" The dark-haired boy laughed and shook his head, splashing water at Chopper.

"No. No." Giggling, he moved to the other side of the pool but Chopper handed the cane to one of the younglings and carefully stepped into the child's pool gathering his son in his arms.

"Yes. Yes." He laughed back, grabbing a towel and wrapping the wriggling boy in its softness as he limped, leaning on the cane, to where they'd left their clothing. "Time for bed. We have guests tonight so I expect the best behavior to them."

The child leaned forward, a sudden surrender with a sigh. "Ok."

Bean was asleep before they reached the apartments. Chopper noticed that Sefan was more relaxed – only partially due to the hot water and cleanliness. Bai was still tense.

Sefan he set in with Bean in Bean's bedroom and gave the spare room to Bai. "If you're worried, Baibera," he told her, "it will lock." He gestured his finger to the room side of the door.

It was burned in Chopper's memory. _How Sa' had turned toward him at the console with her sparkling eyes. "May I give him a Zeltron greeting, my husband?"_

_How Waxer, leaning against the console with his arms crossed across his chest, had glanced at the floor remembering his first experience of a Zeltron greeting and chuckled at the new brother's look of utter confusion._

_How single-armed Djinn, talking to Dyshaea and Kayl about perhaps spending the night in their tent instead of with Lev's crowd, had turned and called to the trooper, 'it's a greeting you'll love."_

_How he had just finished checking and was taking a step from behind the console to go to his wife's to make sure the trooper didn't take the greeting for anything more._

_How the trooper had smiled, then frowned and raised his hand to his stomach as if he had an ache. "I don't feel…"_

_How he suddenly realized he'd been wrong and reached to cover her but too far and too late._

_How the room had exploded in white and red; then black. So much darkness._

_Chopper remembered knowing that Saoha, his beautiful Sa was dead. He remembered giving into that grief, letting his heart follow her into the black river; swimming with that current, not just drifting but actively swimming that dark river to find her, to catch her._

_He'd been so close. She'd been so close._

_Then he'd felt a tug; just a slight, tiny tug of … something. It had felt like when Saoha shared her emotions with him. Laughter and sweetness that cut into him._

_It was just a tiny, little tug. The nascent reaching, wanting of something beyond understanding._

_And Chopper had understood. He was the stone of the family and while Fives was his brother and Sula would miss his beyond agony and none of the children would understand why he'd gone… he could leave them behind. But that tiny tug was the fluttered first sharing of his son; his barely half-year son who would follow that black current with Chopper until they both caught up with Saoha._

_Chopper had turned in the river; swimming against the current, fighting when the water raged against him. The whisper of that tiny tug the reason he would not allow himself to die._

_He woke up crying, knowing Saoha was forever gone._

Bai woke, certain that Sefan was crying in his sleep, but when she checked him he was peaceful. The sound came from the main room and Bai, walking past the empty room of the man to check the noise, paused and saw the undisturbed bedclothes, the fur still rolled up at one end of his bed. She stood for a long moment observing the untouched, empty bed before she returned to her own without checking the main room. He still missed the woman of evening pink.

The next morning Chopper was making breakfast for his son and Sefan when Bai arrived at the table. He had nuna eggs scrambled with vegetables and slivers of bantha steak ready for them in the few short moments it took for her to pour muja juice.

"We'll be going to the hangar deck. I've got some fighters I need to check over and a couple to repair. You're welcome to come with me, stay here or explore the caves. They're well-marked and…"

Bai shook her head and Sefan sighed. "Your generosity is noted and welcome, but we must go."

"Go?" Chopper's brows rose. "Go where? Even I know winter isn't the time to travel on Dantooine."

"We need to get to the capital," sighed Sefan. "We have to be registered."

"Sef!" admonished Bai then she turned to Chopper. "Just some papers that need to be signed by officials and turned in. Nothing, really."

Chopper's lips seemed to quirk then he smiled softly. "If it's nothing really, then why do it?"

Bai bowed her head, staring at the empty glass. Why do it? Because it was freedom. Without it, she'd still be part of her father's clan, still beholden to him. Still owned. She raised her face to Chopper. What did he know about being owned? But his single eye and the lines of his face were kind and understanding.

Sefan moved from his chair, went into the main room and returned with his gloves laying them on the table in front of Chopper.

"When I was born, they gave my gloves a grey line of embroidery." His fingers traced the now-empty stitch holes. "Grey because I was a boy and had the potential to be … anything." He whispered the last word. "When I was five I went to my father's tribe with the grey line and an alliance mother line of green to her clan. My father's second wife gave me a red line of alliance as well." His fingers continued tracing, showing Chopper where the stitches had been. "But I grew up crooked and they crossed my grey line of potential with black knots of bad luck. When my father's second wife miscarried, she crossed my red alliance lines with misfortune – that's brown. When she lost her second child the next year they removed my alliances. I became nothing to them. My mother's line of green was knotted when they tried to return me to her clan to discover that there had been an epidemic and the entire clan died or scattered to other clans." Sefan looked at the bare glove. "When I was repudiated and cast from the clan for being a bringer of bad fortune, Baibera came to my defense. For this they removed all the embroidery from our gloves – our history, all of our kinlines and alliances, everything we are. We have only a moon passage to take our clan papers to the city for registration that we are kinless and clanless. They will assign us schools and work projects until we are adults." He paused. "We think they'll keep us together."

"What happens if you don't make it?"

"The clan can outlaw us. Or they can claim the papers and subject us to working only for food and sleeping furs until we are of age." Bai said. "We go back to the clan with empty gloves; with no alliance, no rights of kinship, no expectation of… kindness."

"When do you need to have the papers done?"

Bai's lips twisted. "Two days time."

Chopper stared for a moment, the side of his thumb tapping on the table. "If it was summer, perhaps you could make it."

Bai stood. "That is why we must start now and continue on."

"He kept the paper," Sefan said quietly. "He signed the first day but kept it until there were only two weeks remaining." Sefan looked hard and angry. Chopper nodded and Sefan continued. "If we don't make it," began Sefan with a look at Bai then continued as her lips twisted. "If we don't make the time limit, I think we'll come back to Clan Gwydr and offer our papers here rather than return to our original clan."

Chopper merely nodded. "I can take you to Dantooine administration."

Bai shook her head. "We must get there by ourselves. Without assistance from others."

"That goes against all the clan teachings I've ever heard." Chopper frowned and sat, reaching down with his hands pulling his bad leg straight. He gestured at Sefan's gloves. "The entire clan system is built upon alliances because no one person, no one clan can do everything; because everyone and everything is interdependent."

Bai shrugged and Sefan rubbed his fingers along an empty stitch line of his kinless gloves.

Chopper simply stared until the child, slightly anxious, whispered, 'papa?' Absently he reached out for the boy and pulled him on his lap. "If you had money, would you be allowed to pay for assistance?"

Bai nodded. "Yes, but it would need to be money from our own labor. We don't have any money and no way to earn it as well as no time."

"I mentioned that I'd be working on the fighters," he glanced at the dark-haired child who was leaning sideways, reaching for his juice, his fingers poking. Absently, Chopper picked up the cup and set it closer to the boy. "I could use some help; often I'm under the engines and could use someone to hand me tools or parts. I also need to keep an eye on my bean here," he grinned at the small boy touching him nose to nose. The child grinned back, juice sliding from the corner of his lips which he chased with his tongue. "I can use help with that also. I can't pay much, but I can pay you sufficiently for you to pay me to take you where you need to go."

"I don't know," began Bai with a worried frown. "If our clan disputes it, we could end up back with them and under _safree_." Bai looked Chopper full in the face. "Like Sefan, I would offer my papers to Clan Gwydr."

"That is something to consider," he absently stroked a ragged scar on the high edge of his cheek. "Sefan," he turned to the boy, "will you run down to Col Chirgyo's barracks and ask him to come offer his advice. I think he should be in the conversation as well."

Sefan returned with both Col and Ehveen as well as an older man.

"Not if he kept the papers, Chopper. A man like that – who tries to cheat his own kin of time – he'd dispute it," said Col.

"He has made this your age trial," said the old man, Adwr. "Its purpose is to demonstrate our interconnectedness by showing how difficult something is without assistance."

Ehveen turned to Bai. "How old are you. Exactly?"

"Seventeen years and eight months," was the reply and Bai merely looked at the older woman with curiosity in her eyes.

"There's one way he cannot dispute, Chopper," she watched as Bai turned white in surprised shock, then embarrassed red. "Isn't there, Bai?"

Chopper was oblivious and even Col took a moment to understand though Adwr was softly nodding his head. Col also nodded as he turned to his brother. "That would work for Bai, but we'd have to see the papers to know if it covers Sefan as well."

"What?" asked Chopper.

"Marriage," whispered Bai when neither the clanleader, the chirgyo nor the chirgyo's wife spoke. "Brides wear white gloves over their regular gloves because marriage alliance takes precedent over all other alliances."

Chopper stood; his face pale. "No." It was a single, solid statement. He shook his head then pushed the chair back away from the table and stood. Angrily he turned and limped toward the door, grabbing his cane. "Get someone else. I have work to do." He turned his face toward the child. "Bean, let's go work on the flyers." The child ran and gripped his free hand with a soft laugh. For a moment Chopper paused, then his own face relaxed and he smiled at his son while speaking to the room at large. "Baibera, Sefan, you can come work for me at the hangar docks. That will get you enough to have someone else take you." Then he and the small child were out the door.

"He loves the other woman," Bai said softly and gestured toward the main room where the edge of the picture could be seen.

"Then let's go work, Bai." Sefan was near the door. "Perhaps Nairym won't dispute that we did this on our own."

"He shouldn't dispute if Chopper pays you and another person takes you into town," offered Col.

"Perhaps someone who is not of Clan Gwydr," smiled Ehveen.

"Or someone who is since Chopper isn't clan," added Adwr.

Ehveen frowned and shook her head. "He may not be clan, father, but he is kin and anyone would see that."

Bai and Sefan left the elders discussing who would or would not take them.

They worked hard, all four of them. In between running around and almost getting into a variety of trouble, the toddler was adept at pointing out what tool or part Chopper was referring to. Bai went and brought them savory fried pastry pies from the mess. Chopper was quiet the entire day, speaking only when he needed a tool or a part which an equally silent Bai would hand him.

He told them he'd meet them in the mess for dinner and then they could all shower and get into the hot pool. When he came to the mess, he dropped four silver coins into Sefan's hand and pushed four coins toward Baibera. "Ahsoka Tano will take you both to the city for the coins. It won't be in a speeder, she is taking one of the flyers into the port. After you get your papers signed," he shrugged. "You can do what you wish."

Sefan looked at the cold coins in his hand. "If we come back, can we…."

"Ssst," hissed Bai, warning Sefan and he glanced up with a blank face, then he blinked and bowed his head. If they returned and Chopper did not pay them the same, could they claim they had not benefited from charity? Could they claim they had traveled 'on their own'?

The hot pool was warm and Bai, filled with hope, allowed herself to relax fully. There were more people; two new brothers of the chirgyo and Chopper called Kix and Rex. Rex had blonde-silver-hair unlike his brothers and almost as many scars on his body as Chopper had on his face. Kix sat next to Sefan and spoke to him almost as kin. A Togrutan woman sat lovingly next to Rex. There were several more humans deeply involved in a discussion with the Togrutan woman who seemed to be the final arbitrator of the discussion.

Ahsoka was the pilot who had earlier come to the mess to meet Bai and Sefan. She seemed kind and capable and had verified she would take them to the port. It was a trip she was already taking and the coins were for a pro-rated portion of the fuel, the landing permit, wind-scour on the ship. "I am under a vow of poverty," she had laughed softly and with a little sorrow when Bai became upset that she was taking so little.

"May we return to Clan Gwydr with you," asked Baibera and Sefan smiled.

"It's the best place we've been," he explained.

It was dark when Baibera heard a soft tapping on her door. It wasn't Sefan and the tapping too high for the little boy so it must be Chopper.

"Yes," she called warily.

"They're asleep, Baibera. I would like you to come speak with me in the main room. It shouldn't take long."

Bai pulled a finely woven blanket over her shoulders and made her way to the main room. Chopper was there, wearing a sleeveless shirt and short pants, rubbing a cream into the skin of his injured leg. He gestured to his relaxing chair.

"I don't ever want to get married again, Bai," he told her bluntly once she had sat and drawn her feet under the edge of the blanket.

"I know," she whispered. "I've seen you look at her picture."

Chopper smiled. "It brings back memories. There's nothing in the picture of Saoha but I look at it and I remember. Everything; it's all in me." He was silent for a time, pulling his foot up and over his knee, gently rolling the ankle with his lips tight and Baibera wondered how painful his leg was. "But if you need me to marry you, Bai, I will."

"That's not much of a proposal," she observed.

"It's the best I can do." He paused, sucking in his lower lip. "I can love you, Bai, much better than my marriage proposal indicates, but I won't let myself love you unless you need me." Using his hands, he set his leg straight and stared down at his hands. "It hurts, Bai, more than anything else you'll ever know."

She didn't understand. "Your leg?"

He shook his head. "Loving someone."

* * *

><p>"An-nee Soka! An-nee Soka!"<p>

The voice was a childish warning and Ahsoka was ready as the dark-headed toddler ran toward her; picking him up and twirling him around, her laughter joining his in the hangar deck of Kierzon's Cave.

"Have you chosen a name yet," she asked as he leaned back to watch the hangar twirl around him and upside-down as well. He giggled.

"Bean, Bean. I like Bean," he insisted.

Chopper had pushed himself out from under the starfighter and was watching them with his lips half-curled in a smile, his elbows resting on his knees. His hair, dark and silver, was as ragged as ever.

Sefan, Chopper's assistant and sort-of son, had a big grin as he sat on the table holding the tools and engine parts.

Bean sat up, comfortable on Ahsoka's hip and tilted his head. "'portant stuff," he said as he nodded and wiggled to be let down.

Ahsoka saw the pain of memory flicker over Chopper's face as Bean's Zeltron heritage read her emotions then he smiled, observing his son. "Bean, you and Sefan go to the mess and I'll have Ahsoka help me finish this flyer."

Sefan raised an eyebrow in question as he took the child's hand in his and Chopper nodded. "We've got it covered, Sefan."

As the two moved down one of the nearby corridors, Chopper stood, grimacing as he grabbed his cane then made his way over to the toolbox. "Your timing is impeccable. I just finished. Help me put away the tools while we talk."

"How did you know I came to talk?" She asked as she reached under the small ship and pulled a tool towards her with the Force. Chopper chuckled.

"That would come in handy, especially for screws and bolts," he laughed as he wiped the tools with a rag and set them in their places, "they always seem to roll inconveniently away." Then he sat against the table, the cane at his side. "There's always so much to do and so little time to do it in, Ahsoka. None of us have time to simply visit anymore. Kix is the only one of us I see regularly." He rubbed at his leg. "I'm never complete sure if it's social or medical. Probably both." He shrugged as he reached for the tool in her hand. "Not Fives. Nor Sula. Nor the children."

"It's one of my regrets, Chopper, among so many." She turned toward the hangar and gesture at the small fleet of fighters and transports he kept functional. "I'm glad you're here. I sometimes dislike myself and Rex that we keep you here, sometimes hate myself for keeping you away from your family. But I'm glad you are here."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." Then he gave a partial grin as he shook his head. "What is so," he grinned and used Bean's word, "'portant you needed to see me before we all went to mess." He frowned and looked around. "Rex is ok, isn't he?"

"He'll meet us in the mess," Ahsoka nodded to Chopper's question, "but he went to Gwydr to ask some of his brothers to come to mess. He wants a meeting of brother clones." Ahsoka leaned against the table at Chopper's side as she dropped the tool into his hand. "It's been almost four years since he said no more recruiting of your brothers."

Chopper nodded and thoughtfully closed the chest, his big hands resting on the metal. He'd lost his Sa' then; his beautiful, wonderful co-wife.

It was burned in Chopper's memory.

_How Sa' had turned toward him at the console with her sparkling eyes. "May I give him a Zeltron greeting, my husband?"_

_How Waxer, leaning against the console with his arms crossed across his chest, had glanced at the floor remembering his first experience of a Zeltron greeting and chuckled at the new brother's look of utter confusion._

_How single-armed Djinn, talking to Dyshaea and Kayl about perhaps spending the night in their tent instead of with Lev's crowd, had turned and called to the trooper, 'it's a greeting you'll love."_

_How he had just finished checking the man for transponders and hidden weapons; how he had just cleared the trooper and was taking a step from behind the console to go to his wife to make sure the trooper didn't take the greeting for anything more than a greeting._

_How the trooper had smiled, then frowned and raised his hand to his stomach as if he had an ache. "I don't feel…"_

_How he'd gotten a cold feeling in the pit of his own stomach as he realized he'd been wrong._

_How the room had exploded in white and red; then black. So much darkness._

_Chopper remembered knowing that Saoha; his beautiful dusty-rose Sa, was dead. He remembered giving into that grief, letting his heart follow her into the black river; swimming with that current, not just drifting but actively swimming that dark river to find her, to catch her, following her silver laughter._

_He'd been so close. She'd been so close._

_He'd felt a tug; just a slight, tiny tug of … something. It had felt like when Saoha shared her emotions with him. Laughter and sweetness that cut into him._

_It was just a tiny, little tug. The nascent reaching, wanting, of something beyond understanding. _

_And Chopper had understood. He was the stone of the family and while Fives was his brother and Sula would miss his beyond agony and none of the children would understand why he'd gone… he could leave them behind. But that tiny tug was the fluttered first sharing of his son; his barely half-year son who would follow that black current with Chopper until they both caught up with Saoha._

_Chopper had turned in the river; swimming against the current, fighting when the water raged against him. The whisper of that tiny tug the reason he would not allow himself to die._

_He woke up crying, knowing Saoha was forever gone._

He'd lost so much then; Fives and Sula as well as Sa. He saw Fives occasionally; he'd drop off a message for Chopper from Sula and then report to Rex. Usually he'd stop by and see Kix – whether or not he was wounded. Fives was kind and cordial, outgoing and bright in so many ways but he couldn't say four words to Chopper without raging at him and Chopper knew it was because Saoha was dead.

Ahsoka touched his arm and Chopper brushed his tears away.

"I'll miss her until I die, Ahsoka," he murmured and she only nodded. Chopper was glad for the warning, if they were going to talk about recruiting brothers.

"Echo has discovered that more and more of the original clones are attempting to desert."

Chopper winced. "Attempting?"

"There's no support, no place they know of where they can go, but they try anyway." She sighed. "It's still some tiny, insignificant fraction but Rex wants to gather some ideas about how to help them without endangering the Rebellion or this base."

Chopper nodded, shifting off the table and grabbing his cane with one hand. His other he offered to his former commander. "Those are his priorities and I think it's a worthwhile idea."

Ahsoka took his arm and they moved toward the mess.

Most of his brothers from Gwydr camp were there; even Jaac who didn't consider himself as one of the rebels was there. The Force-users were there also, Bon and Nia, Seddwia, the XXXX Drakka Judarri, Gruu Dunrik and Bre'ano Umakk, one of the Mon Calamari.

"We know war," explained Kaver who'd once been a sniper and was now a trainer in the rebel base, "weapons, tactics, strategy, munitions, ordnance."

"And not much else," added Dub.

Jaac nodded. "If I was deserting now, I'd take my weapons and hire myself out as a bounty hunter, bodyguard or some other security function because I wouldn't know about farmers, nerfherders, emergency services or even dishwashers."

"At a port," said Chopper slowly, "either I'd be fresh in from somewhere and wandering around a port looking for the civilian equivalent of a mess and a place to stay or I would have just deserted and be looking for a way off-planet. Probably toward the Outer Rim."

Kix nodded. "Something familiar would be welcome; a phrase or a few words."

"Like what, Kix?"

Kix smiled gently. "If I saw a bar named 'Vode' that's where I'd go."

Rex shook his head. "There are too many clones who would recognize the word but wouldn't desert. Too many ways to lose…" He glanced at Chopper and continued in a softer voice, "people we care for."

"Then let the bar be the draw but not the connection," Seddwia spoke softly. "Have someone near the bar to watch." Her fingers gesture to herself and the other Jedi. "Perhaps one of us."

Baibera, sitting next to Chopper nodded. "A hungry, tired man is easy to notice especially if he isn't watching the civilians."

Chopper grunted. "Especially if he gets tossed out of the bar for having no credits or tries to offer work."

* * *

><p>Cody came not long after, dark blue like a Wroonian or Pantoran, excited but silent and with him came Riven and his family.<p>

Riven and Chopper worked well together; Riven excited to once again be working on flyers and fighters and transports. "I was a terrible farmer, Chopper, and Cut was glad to see me go," he joked as his fingers stroked the microparticle sheen of a transport they worked on.

Riven's daughter, Charyna, watched Bean with Bai while Clon and Sefan became good friends. Sefan told Chopper it was a secret, but he suspected the friendship sprang from Clon's love for Baibera.

Nairym came and challenged that Bai and Sefan had made it on their own. Clon and Chopper had stood with Sefan and Bai. Chopper had challenged Nairym to prove that Bai and Sefan didn't make it on their own. Because old Adwr had explained that such a journey was to impress upon the traveler that alliances were necessary.

"She's married, Nairym," Chopper said. "She is my year-wife and I have given her white gloves. More than that, I have given her thread to embroidery kin lines and alliance lines into her gloves. I have given her shares of bantha and nerf. I have given her the promise of a loom of her choice when she enlarges our clan with a child."

"You have not provided a tent," retorted Nairym.

Chopper tilted his head slightly then turned to Baibera. "Bai, do you want a tent."

She shook her head. "I am satisfied with Chopper's Barracks in Kierson's Cave. I am happy to sleep in summer furs on the coldest day of winter. I am satisfied with soap and hot baths daily." That had been a low blow and Nairym straightened in surprise; hot water for bathing was a luxury. "I am happy with my husband who cooks _tashki_ and has a son for me to love; I am happy with my husband who has taken Sefan as apprentice in mechanics."

"After the year marriage…" began Naiyem but Clon cut in.

"By then I will be old enough to marry Bai and I will. She will not have to return to your clan."

* * *

><p><strong>NUMA<strong>

Sixteen years after Order 66; the Rebellion is an organized force

"Stop!" screamed Numa and Kierzon held back a killing strike with the metal bar. The stormtrooper scrambled toward his blaster, one arm hanging uselessly, but Numa was there first and the blaster was steady in her hands. The stormtrooper stopped, slumped in defeat, his good arm curled around his limp wounded arm and his body.

"Is he one of yours, Numa?" asked Kierzon, feeling his ribs and wiping the blood from his nose. They hurt, but nothing felt broken.

"I think so, Kier. I'll take care of him." Her eyes searched the solid white armor, now streaked with blood, as though for a difference from any other white-clad stormtrooper.

"If he's not, you'll take care of him?" Kier stared at the trooper, not believing he was one of the original clones. He'd be old now, without the inoculation Cody had provided so long ago. They knew the Empire had never provided that to the Imperial clones. Kier looked again at Numa, asking with his eyes. In spite of being one of the best fighters in their little squad, Numa hated killing.

"I said I'll take care of him," reiterated Numa, steel in her voice. Kierzon shrugged. She was family and, in a sense, outranked him in this war. He looked at the stormtrooper leaning against the wall.

"Good luck." Kierzon ran down the hall to rendezvous with Rex and Barin. Numa had her part and he hoped she wouldn't be late to the party. Fives would be pissed; a mood he was usually in. Kier vaguely remembered a laughing pirate with long hair. That man was gone; he had died with a beautiful dusty rose woman in an explosion that had also killed two of his brothers and a dozen rebels.

Numa watched him go for an instant then turned back to the man leaning against the wall. He had pulled out his vibroknife.

"You toss that down," she offered, "and I'll drop the blaster."

He shook his head. "That's a bad choice. I'm stronger than you."

"I'm faster and you have a broken arm and collar-bone as well as several broken ribs." She didn't have to let him know she sparred with better fighters than him.

He sighed deeply. "Just kill me, now, Nerri." He said quietly as he let the knife fall to the floor. "Make it painless."

She smiled remembering back a decade and more. "Will you take off your helmet for me, Dex?"

Tiredly his hand reached up and he pulled it off. She recognized the scar along his nose and smiled softly. He was older, the shortness of his hair was all silver and there were deep lines in his face that had only been beginning when she'd last seen him. There was another, newer scar cutting across the one on the bridge of his nose as well as a recent deep, unhealed scratch on his cheek. She took a step closer.

"You've been fighting twenty years, Dex. Biologically, you're almost sixty years old. How can you do it?" Her question was rhetorical but he answered her anyway.

"If I don't fight; if I fail the physical, I go back to Kamino. There's no retirement for the CT group. That's been good incentive in the past." He looked at his arm. "This will do it for me. Even healing in bacta only does so much when you're this old. There's no resilience left."

"Did you ever think about deserting?"

Dex shook his head. Numa saw only defeat in his body. "Where would I go? Yeah, I did think about it for a couple of brief moments through the years but there was nowhere to go." He gave her a small smile, the lines of his eyes crinkling deeply. "You were always my best memory."

"I should have told you, Dex." Numa murmured. "I should have told all of you, but at that time…." She shook her head. "I didn't have the authority to let anyone know. There were so few of us and we had a great deal of work to do." She stepped forward again and placed her palm on his face. He shut his eyes as he had done so long ago and she traced the scar across his nose with a finger, then both her hands came up and stroked under his eyes, toward his temples.

_Kriff_, it felt so good; better than it had before. He'd had women since the first time she touched him, but this was still better. _They were paid,_ said a portion of his mind_, she is giving_. He sobbed deep in his throat. She guided his face down with her hand. He knew what was coming and opened his eyes to see her. Her face was streaked with tears.

"Will you come home with me, Dex? It won't be an easy life. There will be so many people who won't trust you because you've been a stormtrooper for so long. And I can't even tell you anything at the moment. It has to be blind trust."

"I shut my eyes the first time you kissed me, Nerri." He smiled, "I shut my eyes for you." He shook his head and gestured at his arm. "I'd just slow you down now."

She ignored his words as she unclipped the shoulder locks of his chest plate. "You can't be in armor, you understand that?"

He nodded and did what he could with a single functioning arm but it was her familiarity with armor that had him down to his body glove in a short time. He set aside the thought for later; there was no time now for questions. She clipped his utility belt and holster on his waist, pressed the blaster into his hand and wrapped his broken arm tight against his body with a bandage strip from his med kit. She turned toward the corridor.

"Wait," he called and she glanced back in question. He licked his lips. "The first time you kissed me and even just now," he licked his lips nervously. "I wanted to hold you against me, against my chest. Will you, in case I don't…?"

He hadn't even finished the sentence before she was against him, holding him around the waist, the side of her face against his chest. His good arm curled around her. It was better than he'd ever dreamed.

They caught up with Kier at a T intersection, stormtroopers firing on him from both corridors.

"Kierzon, Dex."

"Pleasure," Kier glanced at the blaster in the old man's hands. "I should have figured, Numa." Kier looked hard at the older man, so familiar, holding his eyes for a moment with a frown and more emotions than Dex could understand. "Any suggestions?"

"Wait for Rex and Barin. They should be coming down that corridor."

"Waiting allows for reinforcements," supplied Dex. "I think they have more reinforcements than you." He glanced at her. "Than us," he corrected. He chewed at his lower lip, a trait he had in common with many of the original clones.

"_Fierfik_," muttered Kierzon, seeing his father's mannerisms in this man.

"I can try to circle around them, there is a way." Dex shifted, started to turn.

"You're wounded, Dex. I'll be faster." Numa shifted back. "And I haven't introduced you to our friends in the hangar."

"You go down this corridor until you see…"

"Tell me like you'd tell another trooper, Dex," she ordered. "Like you'd tell a scout."

He swallowed. Surely he'd have to explain some of it. "Corridor, quarter klick, 1,2,3. Hangar port 23, 25, 27 stairs down 1, corridor grav counter, corridor 1, 2, stairs up 1. It's maintenance, single file." She nodded and stood.

"You can always pick up a few grenades in the hangar port," added Kierzon helpfully.

Numa smiled as she started down the corridor. "Of course, cousin."

"What if she gets lost?" Dex asked Kierzon. "She can't be familiar with…"

"She is." Kier's voice was dry and Dex noticed that Kierzon trusted him sufficiently to turn his back.

"Thank you," Dex said.

"Don't expect much more."

Dex smiled. "It's enough." Another white figure reached out to fire and Dex shot first, the blaster fire removing the man's arm from the body. Experience, at least, counted for something. War was a familiar dance to him, with rhythm and cadence that flowed in his blood. "Nerri told me I can expect distrust and suspicion."

"Pretty much. From most of us. Her husbands will welcome you though. You'll be debriefed. I've been told it's both painful and emotionally cleansing." He sucked on his own lips for a moment. "A couple of other families will trust you. My father, for one."

"I should have figured she'd be married. I've heard Twi'leks marry young." He sighed. "She was probably married twelve years ago when..."

Kierzon snorted in humor and sent several blaster shots down the corridor simply to force the stormtroopers to keep their heads down.

"Married. Kids. A wonderful, happy family that could probably take out any squad of stormtroopers short of Imperial guards and I'd put even money on them."

"She said…" but Dex's comment was disrupted by a set of grenade blasts from both corridors; behind both sets of stormtroopers.

"What the .." began Kierzon.

"How'd she…" Dex looked at Kierzon in confusion, his forehead wrinkling.

There was blaster fire from both corridors and both Kierzon and Dex waited for the smoke to clear. Nerri came from one corridor and Dex kept an eye on her, making sure no one came up behind her. He didn't see the two men coming from the other direction until they turned into the corridor.

"Rex, Dex. Dex, Rex." Kierzon smiled at the look on Dex's face. "Barin also."

_He must be one of the newer ones,_ thought Dex with a frown, _but they don't desert_. He reached out a hand to touch the other clone's face then pulled it back. He was too old to be one of the new ones; too young to be one of the originals.

The other clone had blonde hair and hard eyes that missed nothing. Dex vaguely remembered hearing about a clone captain with blonde hair deserting at Order 66. "How long…" began Dex but his voice faded into silence.

"Mission accomplished, move out," commanded the blonde clone after a moment. Dex got the feeling he would have been allowed to touch the man.

"Kier, I should kick your _shebs_ back to the hangar." He was moving down the corridor in a smooth jog.

"Sorry, Rex. The situation got a little complicated."

"How complicated?" asked the younger man. Dex thought him barely beyond youngling age.

"Uhh, complicated enough that we'll have to borrow an Imperial transport."

The only response was a glare.

"Fives is working on that," Kier added.

Nerri ran beside Dex, bring up the rear. He was getting winded and wondered if perhaps one of the ribs hadn't punctured a lung. He reached the back of his hand to his lips and glanced at the saliva he wiped away. "_Fierfik!_" he muttered, seeing it mixed with streaks of blood.

"What's the matter, Dex?" He felt her soft hand on his shoulder, warm with only the body glove separating their skin.

"Nothing."

"Report, trooper," commanded Rex without looking back. "Condition?"

"Punctured lung, sir." Dex's response was automatic. "Along with the broken arm."

"Move into three. Barin, take the five slot. I'll take him if he starts to drop or slow." Again, it was an order from the blonde man, so natural no one even had to think about it, least of all Dex. Dex moved into the three spot, the center of the squad; the protected spot. The young blond man with an odd swelling around his head slowed to move in step with Numa, positions four and five. Dex didn't like to think about a woman bringing up the rear. Or maybe it was just a woman that he had kissed.

Dex made it to the hangar without assistance, but wouldn't have made it much further. He wasn't bleeding badly but he could feel the beginning accumulation of fluid in his lungs and his arm hurt and half his entire body ached. He'd need a medic within a couple of hours; sooner if he continued to move. He sat on a bench and leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily, and closed his eyes. He just needed a few moments of rest. He hoped it wasn't a dream.

He woke to one of his brothers yelling. He was disoriented for a moment, wondering what he was doing out of armor. Then he saw Nerri and remembered.

Dex looked at the man glaring hatefully at him. It wasn't simple distrust, it went far beyond that.

"I'll stay, slow them down." Dex stammered. "It's enough just knowing some of my brothers are…."

"Get in the _kriffing_ flyer," shouted the clone with ragged hair.

"Fives," commented Rex calmly. "You're in the flyer."

"Yeah, maybe I'll get lucky and he'll be loaded too." The clone named Fives stalked toward the small flyer.

Dex didn't understand, but he caught the look of sorrow Rex gave Fives and Nerri's sad little nod directing him to the flyer. Dex didn't know the specifics, but he understood; it was war and there were always losses.

Oddly enough, Fives got into the most arguments with his co-husband. He couldn't raise his voice at Sula; the children got nothing but his love and hugs. But it was as though Chopper had been the one to kill Saoha; Fives couldn't let anything go with Chopper.

Even more oddly, Chopper accepted it all with equanimity.

"Sa' was doing something she loved, Rex." Chopper gave a faint smile. "She loved smiling at a trooper; feeling their confused emotions consolidate. Sure, most of them didn't desert, but Sa said it was still worthwhile."

"I'm sorry, Chopper. We should have…"

"Should have what, Rex?" Chopper sadly shook his head. "I was the one to clear him. He wanted to desert otherwise Saoha wouldn't have talked to him." Chopper looked at the floor. "She was laughing. Fives once said she laughed like silver and I could always hear that in her voice. She laughed like silver rain. She was laughing and she turned toward me and asked if she could kiss him. She always asked in front of them so they wouldn't make – well, too many assumptions." Chopper raised an eyebrow. "She was Zeltron, after all. He smiled, like he'd never known how to smile before. He smiled and then he laughed kind of tentatively but happily." Chopper looked down at where his left hand was missing several fingertips. "Then he blew up and took out everyone in the room except me, Larim and Porkins."

Chopper was silent for a while longer. "What did they do, Rex? Explosives in his blood rigged to hormones? Something he was unaware of or Sa' would have felt it in his emotions. "

"We still don't know, Chopper." Rex regretted not just Saoha but his brothers they could no longer recruit. He had never mentioned Sula; even before Fives raged at him declaring his family was no longer anyone's tool. There had been nothing left of the trooper or of Saoha, and Rex had lied to Chopper about that. Djinn was buried on Saleucami next to long-dead Crux. Kayl had been buried on Dantooine with his rebel wife by their sorrowing family. They'd left children too young to truly understand.

Fives bent his head to Kix's shoulder and Kix's arms encircled him, brushing his face with gentle fingers. Fives sobbed.

"I wasn't there, Kix," he began as the tears started. "I wasn't there."

Always the same. Kix knew those words weren't meant for him.

"Perhaps, you should get angry at him?" Baibera suggested and Chopper inspected her face as he thought.

He shook his head. "He's angry. Me getting angry at him would just start a fight."

"Why is he angry, Chopper?"

"I allowed our wife to die."

"You allowed?" Baibera frowned. "You permitted…"

Chopper sighed. "I wasn't good enough. I missed something when I checked him. Fives would have…"

"No, Chopper. Ahsoka says it was something no one could have seen. Has Fives said he would have caught it?"

"I should have caught it."

"Much different than could have. What did you miss?"

"I don't know," he whispered, "I still don't know."

"If you don't know, then how could Fives have caught it."

She had him there and Chopper was quietly contemplative.

"Chopper, please, get angry at him."

Fives yells…

"You stop it, Fives," Chopper shouted back, grabbing his brother and shoving him against the ship. "I have done my penance for my stupidity. I lost my beautiful Sa. I lost Sula, I lost Peach and the other children. I lost you, my brother, my co-husband."

Fives stared with his mouth open at Chopper's words and there was a long silence between the men then Fives dropped to the chair. His mouth closed then he opened his lips to speak. "I'm sorry, Chopper." Tears glistened in his eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

* * *

><p>To be continued ... in about a year or two. Check again summer 2014.<p> 


End file.
